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‘I’ve orgasmed twice already,’ she said bluntly. ‘I just want you.’

He hesitated. She could feel his tension as this time he carefully took the bulk of his weight on his elbows. He gently probed her with his thick erection.

She shivered, all the goosebumps back. ‘Girth is good, Ethan.’

He laughed and kissed her. ‘You could use that as another website. GirthIsGood.’

‘Yeah?’ She rocked sinuously beneath him, wanting him to close those last few inches. ‘I’ve got a better one.’

‘Mmm?’ He kept up the tease, still not penetrating.

‘Pump. Now. Please.’

‘Okay.’ But still he didn’t. Instead he bent and with a wide mouth sucked hard at her nipple while stroking with his tongue, his hand cupping its twin so it didn’t feel neglected. Something else felt neglected.

Breathlessly she tightened her grip on him, jerking him up by the hair. ‘Do me or die,’ she ordered.

‘Oh, that’s nice.’

But she’d won. She saw the flare of his nostrils, the narrowing of his gaze as his focus centred.

He pushed forward. Hard.

She moaned—a low, wild sound that came from deep in her chest—and he paused. She could feel his heart thumping. She inhaled deep, then sighed and smiled. ‘Good, good, good,’ she muttered. ‘Now give me more.’

‘Demanding,’ he choked. ‘So demanding.’

‘You like it.’

‘I do.’

‘So why have you stopped?’

‘I like it too much.’

‘Ethan …’

‘Will you give me a break?’ he snapped. ‘I move an inch now and I’ll come, and I don’t want to come just yet. I don’t want this to be over that soon.’ He exhaled sharply, closed his eyes on her, his whole expression creasing into a frown of agony and need, frustration and determination.

‘Oh …’ She all but came again herself. Thrilled. She didn’t want it to end yet either, but she wanted him to feel as ecstatic as her—as desperate.

‘It’s not funny.’ He moved out of her.

‘What are you doing?’ She growled her disappointment.

He frowned right back at her. ‘It’s okay for you to be fast. It’s not okay for me to be fast,’ he gritted. ‘I don’t want either of us to end up frustrated.’

He sat back and rearranged her, pushing her legs further apart, and then moved forward again, stopping to suck her some more before sliding his length deep inside and causing those mini-convulsions in her again.

‘How hard?’ he asked, the strain audible.

‘Rough as you can.’

‘Oh—’ He swore crudely and swiftly left her again, rising to his knees and rubbing his hands over his face as he inhaled huge gulps of air.

She sat up and stared, amazed to see him struggling so much. ‘Are you worried about your reputation, Ethan?’

Didn’t he know he’d already given her the best sexual experience of her life? Or did he think she had orgasms in public parks every day of the week?

‘No.’ He glared at her. ‘But I’m not completely in control of myself with you.’

‘And you usually are?’

He grunted.

She smiled, crazily pleased that he was having a hard time coping with how turned on he was. ‘Well, I don’t care about control,’ she said quietly. ‘I just want you inside me.’

‘What you say to me,’ he said through even more tightly clenched teeth, ‘does not help.’

‘You want me to shut up?’

He looked at her for a long time and then suddenly smiled, the tension in his face altering from strained to wicked—but still edgy. Had he won whatever battle it was he was having with himself? ‘Yeah—why don’t you just come and take what you want?’

‘All right.’ She rose to her knees and crawled the half-metre to sit astride him.

He lifted his face to look her in the eye. She saw the mix of molten fury and desire as she rocked herself over the tip of his erection a few times. She’d known it would be good, but she hadn’t expected this kind of blistering, on-the-edge passion. Equal parts anger and hunger and helpless humour.

She put her hands on his shoulders, her fingers spread wide, but still not big enough to curl right around them. That didn’t matter. She could use them as leverage anyway. And she pushed down hard as she took him in to his hilt.

His hands were pressed hard into the floor, and she pushed harder on him as she lifted her hips and ground back down. The sensation was outrageously awesome as she slid up off him and then slammed back down. Slow and deep and again and again.

He said nothing. Nor did she. But she felt the way he was forcing his breathing to stay regular. She smiled, watching him watching her breasts sway with her rhythm. She touched them, cupping them in her hands and presenting her taut nipples to his lips.

His hands lifted, tight on her thighs, and he tasted—as she wanted. She laughed, drunk on the excitement of seeing him so desperate for her.

His hands suddenly tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, his tongue rampaging into her mouth, not letting her go and giving no respite from the ferocious, powerful kisses. She half moaned, half hummed with ecstasy into his mouth as he started thrusting up to meet her—making the ride even more incredible.

The thrill rolled in on unstoppable waves, crashing over her, tossing her into a pleasure-filled place that was so captivating she alternately held her breath and then gasped for relief as they ground closer and closer again. And then she could no longer move, no longer control the ride. Her senses, her sanity crumbled under the onslaught of pure, unbearable ecstasy. His arms tightened as she quivered and then shuddered in the throes of an orgasm like no other.

As it ebbed he moved, flipping her over, crushing her beneath him. And pounded. Sliding further and harder into her heat. She clamped on him, arched up every time to pull him closer still and not let him go. With every surge of friction she was driven back to the brink. She cried out helplessly—wanting a rest but desperate for more. His breathing rasp

ed in her ears, melding with her own broken entreaties as she chanted his name again and again. They were way past the boundaries of civility, burning now with raw, instinctive need. Blinded by sensations, beyond reason, just desperate and aching and frantic for final fulfilment.

Nothing had ever felt as amazing as him driving into her with such magnificent masculinity. Nothing could ever surpass this moment. He lifted her higher and higher with his ferocious force, filling her with power and strength and pure, sweet joy.

Her scream cracked as it became too much to bear. He reared up, grinding forward in one last, fierce long thrust, roaring his own satisfaction, tossing her body once more into convulsions of rapture and her mind into blank bliss.

Even though she could see again, she kept her eyes shut, flinging her arm over her eyes to hide awhile longer. He was close by, still half on top of her, but he’d tumbled slightly to the side so he didn’t crush her. So she could breathe.

But she couldn’t. Her heart galloped. She felt the vibrations of his heart thudding too, and his harsh breathing as they both fought to recover as fast as possible.

She didn’t think she’d ever recover. Her whole body throbbed. Sweat slid. Her lips were so well used she was almost bruised.

An aftershock made her tremble uncontrollably. She felt his body flinch in response—and hold for a moment. But his tension didn’t ease. And hers grew all the more.

Silently he took his weight on his hands and withdrew from her body.

‘Excuse me a minute,’ he muttered.

She didn’t answer, didn’t move as she listened to his footsteps recede. Then she peeped past her elbow. Empty room. Quickly she sat up and reached for her tee shirt, slipped it down as best she could. Her panties were wet and cold. Most of her was wet and cold—all heat sucked away by some giant invisible vacuum cleaner the moment he’d left the room.

Yeah, whoever it was who reckoned that sex dispelled tension was wrong. Because it was so much worse now. And not just tension—terror. What the hell had she been thinking? Rising panic sent her pulse frantic, threatening to burst her eardrums.


Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance