“There, baby,” he whispered, licking her nipple as each breath she took ended in a lingering little whimper.
Retreating, dragging the slick dampness from inside her, he eased his finger lower, finding the tight puckered entrance he sought.
Hips lifting, she whimpered his name each time he dragged her body’s lubrication to the closed, extremely tight portal of her rear.
“I’ll buy you a toy, Zoey,” he promised, slickening her further, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring what he needed to teach her how to take the pleasure he could give her there.
“Then, while I’m fucking your tight little throat, I can fuck you right here as well.” He pushed his finger to the first knuckle inside the gripping entrance of her anus and nearly came in his jeans when she screamed his name and demanded more.
“Deeper,” she cried. “Oh God, Doogan . . .”
She writhed on the penetration, bearing down, taking him to the next knuckle.
Twisting his wrist Doogan sent a finger thrusting inside her pussy, his lips covering a nipple, consuming it, nipping and licking and growling with demented hunger.
He couldn’t take much more.
God, he had to get inside her.
Pulling back, he ignored her shattered cry, her demand to give her more. Loosening his jeans, he drew the engorged length of his shaft free before gripping her wrists and pulling her into a sitting position.
“On your knees,” he snarled.
He didn’t wait for her to move. Wrapping one arm around her hips, he lifted her, turning her. When she caught her weight on her hands and knees, he jerked the brief little shorts over her shapely ass to her knees, gripped his cock, and, as he watched, pressed it against the glistening, swollen curves of her pussy.
“I’m going to come inside you again,” he breathed out in anticipation. “Like I did before. Damn, Zoey, it’s incredible how good it feels to pump my release in your snug little pussy. To feel you surrounding me . . .” He pressed forward. “Ah baby, so hot and wet. So tight and sweet.”
Her inner muscles bit down on him, tightening, rippling around the advancing intruder, milking him deeper, sucking at his flesh with such incredible pleasure that holding back was killing him.
Sweat trailed from his temple, beaded the rest of his face. Teeth clenched, a groan pulling from his chest, he pushed inside her further. His balls tightened, his cock throbbing. And the sweet heat enclosing him was like a silken vise tightening around his cock.
Still, he pushed in with slow, measured thrusts, watching her flesh stretch around him, seeing her juices clinging to his shaft as he pulled back. Then in again, groaning, his thighs bunching to hold back his release as her inner muscles sucked at the too-sensitive head of his cock.
She was killing him. She was ripping his soul open, tearing down the defenses he’d spent years building, and reminded him, with each look, each second he spent with her, why he’d nearly broken a sacred vow one hot summer night, just to have her.
“Ah Zoey, I love how you take me,” Doogan groaned behind her. “So hot and tight, sucking my dick in . . .” His hips jerking, driving him deeper, harder.
A desperate cry spilled from her lips.
She needed harder, deeper. He was killing her with the exquisitely slow thrusts and retreats. Sensitizing her to the point that the pleasure was an ecstatic agony.
Excitement raged through her, making breathing harder, each breath becoming a moan as he stroked inside her. The callused fingers gripping her hips kneaded her flesh; she felt beads of his sweat drip to her back, felt his cock throbbing inside her, the heavy, ropy veins rasping against her inner flesh, the broad, mushroomed head driving her crazy with each thrust before the heavy shaft lodged inside her, pounding with each beat of his blood racing through the throbbing veins.
“You’re killing me,” she cried, her shoulders collapsing to the mat, her nails digging into the tough canvas. “Stop torturing me, Doogan . . . Oh God . . . Doogan, please . . .”
Slow, so slow she could feel every heated stretch of her inner muscles as the broad crest eased inside her. Flexing, rippling in need, her pussy clenched on the invader, milked it, fought to hold him inside her.
It wasn’t enough.
Each slow impalement only built the need higher, increased the storm beginning to rage through her senses. Lazy, steadily tightening spirals of sensations lashed through her while each slow thrust, each retreat, had her crying out the need for more, for harder, for relief from the steadily building intensity that was driving her crazy.
“Sweet Zoey,” he crooned behind her, that hint of the Irish accent so damned sexy it just made her wetter. “Ah babe, how I love the feel of you.”
“Doogan, I need you. Now,” she groaned, her fingers fisting, perspiration dampening her hair now. He was burning her alive, the flames searing her senses, racing through her body like wildfire. “Please let me cum. Please . . . Fuck me, Doogan.”
A sudden, slamming thrust nearly triggered the explosion she was begging for. As though his control merely slipped for an instant. He stilled as the hard, fast thrust buried him to the hilt, his hands clenching on her hips, a rough groan tearing from his chest.
“I love you fucking me,” she whispered brokenly as he eased back, retreating by slow degrees. “So thick and hard inside me, so hot . . .”