“This,” I pressed the button on the handle, making the toy quietly buzz, “uses suction on my clit.” I placed the toy over my damp skin, and as soon as it was sealed, I shuddered. “It feels so nice.”
Inside me, his dick jerked.
The pleasure of the toy was so intense and distracting, it took a long moment to become aware that the man beneath me was moving again. It was so subtle. Just a fraction of an inch to entice me to allow more.
To bend the rule. To seduce me.
But it felt like the power I’d gained was starting to shift away, and I was enjoying it too much to give up yet. I’d barely started.
“Hold still,” I begged. “And don’t come before I do.”
He exhaled loudly, and the muscles of his abs strained when I resumed moving on his cock. “That’s . . . not . . . easy.” He lay perfectly still, other than the way he panted. “You feel so fucking good.”
Everything was buzzing from the toy and the fullness of him inside me, and it wouldn’t be long before an orgasm roared through my body. Trembles shook my legs as I moved faster, and the slap of my body against his grew louder. My hair swayed while I rocked, the ends tickling the bare skin of my back.
“Slow,” he groaned, staring at the rise and fall of my body on his. “Careful.”
But I didn’t want to go slow or be cautious. I was locked inside a pressure cooker filling with steam. My need made me a slave, and I fucked him how my body demanded me to.
His warning was serious and accompanied by a firm hand on my hip. “You’re going to make me come.”
His attempt to get me to stop moving didn’t work. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and flung his hand off me.
“Shit, Erika. I’m close.”
The edge of desperation in his voice not only excited the darkest part of me—it unlocked it. I slowed my hips, grinding to a halt and gazed down at this gorgeous man who’d told me he thought I had a filthy mind. I was determined to prove him right.
“Maybe you need some motivation,” I whispered.
Tension crept into his body like he sensed whatever I was about to say would be worse than making him lie still.
“If you come before I say you can . . .” I swallowed so hard it was audible. “As punishment, you have to clean it up.”
He stopped breathing. Stopped blinking. “What?”
“If you come inside this pussy without my permission, you’ll use your mouth to take care of your mess.”
An enormous shudder shook his body, as if he’d tried to hold it back and couldn’t.
Because my shocking, filthy decree had turned him on when he hadn’t expected it to. He’d barely finished processing it before I resumed moving. His teeth were clenched and the muscles in his neck corded, but he held still and endured the pleasurable way I heaved my body over his.
But it took its toll. No matter how he tried to concentrate, it was getting to him. Not just the slide of my pussy, but the sights and sounds. I couldn’t stay quiet as the toy pulsed against my sensitive clit, and I writhed on top of him, arching my back and making my hardened nipples point toward the ceiling.
“Goddamnit,” he growled. Although it was so desperate, maybe it was a whine.
I watched porn and knew some of the terms, and I doubted there was anything I could say that would shock a twenty-four-year-old guy. He had internet and was probably into more things than I was.
“Maybe you’re a dirty boy who wants to eat his own creampie,” I murmured.
He exhaled loudly and flinched beneath me. His dick throbbed, announcing that he’d gotten very, very close. The idea of it was too much and pushed me over the edge.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped. “Oh, God, ohmigod . . .”
As the frenzy built inside me, it was mirrored on Troy’s face. Excitement lit his eyes. “Yeah? Come all over me.”
My orgasm took me in its grip, and everything contracted—then burst open. I flinched with shocks of pleasure and pulled the mouth of the toy away, the suction now far too intense.
“Fuck, yeah,” he groaned. “Fuck.”
I was still shuddering when I fumbled to turn the toy off and then dropped it to the mattress beside us.
His warm, rough hands were around my waist, but it seemed like he’d done it to hold me steady, not to try to control. I’d been wild in the throes of my climax, and he hadn’t wanted me to accidentally pull off him. He’d enjoyed me coming almost as much as I had.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
He grinned. “That good, huh?”
It was like the ecstasy had disrupted my brain and I could only produce single words. “Yes,” I said. “Good.”
As I recovered, he grew bolder. His fingertips skated up my back and urged me forward. He wanted to kiss me, and I wasn’t going to deny him that. I needed it more than anything else right now, and our greedy lips collided, lighting a new fire inside me.
The song playing in my head was different than the one last night. It was deeper and more emotional, and my heart panicked at it. I’d told myself the only feelings I was allowed to develop for this man were the ones in my pants. I was coming out of a marriage and besides that, getting emotionally involved with him would further complicate things with both Jenna and our careers.
Yet . . .
I couldn’t stop kissing him, and I couldn’t stop the wave of longing that swept through me.
When I began moving again, slower this time, Troy stayed a statue. Only his face twisted with satisfaction as I eased up and down. Stroke after long stroke, I found my tempo. When I lifted up and braced my hands against the headboard, I could move faster.
His question came from the back of his throat. “Can I come?”
It felt so fucking good, I was sure I could wring another orgasm quickly from my body. “Not yet,” I cried.
It was not the answer he wanted, and in my greed, I hadn’t realized I’d pushed him to the brink. He sat up and wrapped his arms around me, then suddenly turned us over so I was flat on my back, the sheets beneath me.
I gasped as he guided himself inside my body and drove deep, his hands cuffing my wrists and pressing them to the mattress. Denied too long, Troy took control. I gaped up at him in awe, utterly thrilled by the ruthless way he took me. He rutted like a beast.
Determination etched his face and burned in his eyes as he fucked me. The slam of his body against mine was violent and it shook the bed. This wasn’t a man wanting to please . . . he’d done that already.
This was a man wanting to find his end.
I marveled at his raw display, how he acted as if his need for me was consuming him. The sexual creature inside me wanted to burst. It was beyond sexy and whispered the power I thought I’d relinquished was still there—it’d only shifted.
His grip on my wrists tightened as he approached his climax, and the furious tempo of his thrusts became uneven. A deep moan climbed out of his chest on his final thrust, and as he came, Troy collapsed forward onto me, flattening his sweat-damp skin to mine.
The rhythmic pulses of his orgasm felt so incredibly good, I moaned in sync with him. He lay on top of me for a long moment, shuddering and spent, before collecting himself and rising onto his arms.
I didn’t understand the expression he was wearing. Was he ashamed of how rough he’d been?