“Now,” I plead.
Zander reaches for his jeans and pulls out a condom, ripping it open and rolling it on in seconds before he positions himself at my entrance.
His eyes bore into mine, asking a silent question. Giving a silent warning. Last chance to back out.
Yeah right.
I arch my hips toward his, welcoming him.
And he fills me in one violent thrust. I didn’t expect anything else from this man. He’s all raw energy and fierce intention. That much was clear on the train.
And he’s no different now as he strokes me, pounds into me, filling me so completely. More than I’ve ever been filled.
I cry out as he slams into me over and over. I clutch his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh.
Zander hooks an arm under one of my knees and pulls it high, opening me wider, fucking me deeper.
“I’m going to cum,” I pant out.
He drops his head, taking my nipple in his mouth again and sucking hard. I
feel the climax build, my pussy tightening around his thick cock.
But when he slips that finger back behind me and slides it in, filling me and stretching me even more, I fly over the edge. Screaming. Clawing.
Coming harder than I ever have in my life. Over and over again my pussy squeezes his cock, clamping down as wave after wave of ecstasy wracks my body.
And when he lets go, his huge dick throbbing as jet after jet of pleasure pours out, it sends me on another shattering wave of ecstasy that threatens to destroy me for any other man ever.
Zander
I pace back and forth across the pavement in front of Madison’s apartment, feeling like a fucking stalker. I don’t know what it is. She got under my skin.
After I left her apartment last Saturday morning, I didn’t know what to make of the situation. It was some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life, and something in me just wanted to stick around all day.
I don’t do that.
So I left. And she seemed okay with that, not revealing anything as she stood in the doorway in a silky white robe and kissed me goodbye.
But all week she’s the only thing I’ve been able to think of. How is that even possible? I’ve spent my entire adult life without making attachments. It’s never been an option. My life was too dangerous, and I couldn’t afford distractions.
But now? Now I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing next. My whole future is spread out before me. And part of me wants to see if there is a chance Madison could fit into it somehow.
I also have no clue what she was thinking. What she was feeling. Was she just responding to the traumatic situation of what happened on the 6 Train? It’s not uncommon for someone to have a reaction to stress that isn’t how they would normally behave. And I got the distinct impression from Madison—despite her being a total vixen in bed—that bringing strangers home is not her M.O.
So here I am. Outside her apartment. Waiting for her to come out. Wondering if maybe we can have more than one night. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, but I know it’s more of her.
The door of her building swinging open grabs my attention, and I turn to find her standing there, eyes wide and mouth open.
“Zander?”
I rake a hand over my jaw. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
I go for a grin, trying to eliminate any tension, knowing I can give off a threatening vibe.
“I thought you might want to grab some breakfast with me.” I shrug. “I didn’t have your number, so…” I grin wryly. Yeah. Like that explains away the stalkerish waiting on her doorstep.