And God, he was about to make good on that promise.
He carved out a space for himself between my thighs, his big penis pushing between us, the head of him hitting my belly button, the juts of his harsh breaths only spurring me on more.
Desperate to feel him. All of him.
I whimpered. “Please.”
The words he released were nothing but a growl. “I’m going to fuck you, Angel. Don’t ask for it soft.”
There was no hesitation left when he hoisted me from my feet and surged into me in one mind-bending thrust.
I might have blacked out right there.
This had to be a dream.
A fantasy.
Because the feel of him shouldn’t be possible. The way he stretched and filled, so huge I was gasping and clawing and trying to adjust.
Ian stilled, his hands shaking where he held me by the outsides of my thighs, his big body pinning mine to the wall. His chest heaved, his eyes wild like he’d slammed straight into shock.
“Perfect.” His throat bobbed when he swallowed, and he seemed to struggle to gather himself. “Fuck . . . you’re perfect. Angel Girl. Angel Girl. Tell me that tonight you are mine. You’re mine.”
There was something frantic about this command.
“I’m yours. Tonight, I’m yours.”
But I knew it was so much greater than that. That I hadn’t only given him tonight. I’d given him a piece of myself.
I’d never been so sure of it until he began to drive into me, slow drags out of my body that sent me reeling with shivers of pleasure, hard thrusts that took me so deep that a cry left me on each one.
Those fierce eyes pinned me just as fiercely as the thrust of his hips.
Measured. Hard. Possessive.
The air and his fucks and the intensity that swam and billowed and blew.
The man owning me where he held me in the power of his hands.
Those eyes flicked all over my face, searching, knowing, this feeling coming over me that I’d never been so close to someone before.
That we were both broken open wide.
Giving and taking. Giving and taking.
Oh, did Ian take as his hips began to snap. Deeper and faster, working both of us into a frenzy.
Heat blazed and flames lapped.
Rising up at our feet.
Emotion thick, my heart threatening to batter right out of my chest.
“Grace,” he gritted, his fingers sinking deeper into my thighs as if he couldn’t get deep enough, his cock surging into my pussy at a punishing pace, those mesmerizing eyes on my mouth as if he wanted to lose himself there, too.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispered in some kind of awe. In fear and confusion and need.
It only drove him to take me harder. Demanding more. As if he didn’t understand that I would willingly offer everything.
I wanted to touch his face.
Kiss his mouth.
Taste his tongue.
But I let him have me the only way he would let me.
The man fucked me as if we had no time left. An uncaged animal who was taking his one chance.
Making his claim.
Marking me.
Every inch.
Body and heart and soul.
I was right.
I was right.
I was never going to be the same.
Our grunts filled the air, our bodies slapping as he drove deeper and harder and seared himself to my flesh.
“Fuck . . . so sweet . . . this body. It’s mine, Grace.”
Big hands grabbed me by the knees and pushed me open wide where I was splayed across his wall as he banged me into oblivion.
That’s what it was.
Oblivion.
And I was screaming out again, an orgasm splitting me in two.
Riding a river. Burning in his flames.
“Ian.” His name had become a prayer. A shout of my heart.
He only fucked me harder, faster and deeper and madder before the man was growling, hands everywhere, searching, as if he were trying to find a place to latch onto me forever.
He cinched down tight, body going rigid as he fully seated himself inside my body.
Ian’s grunts became a roar, and the man shuddered and shook, shouting my name with his release.
His cock was so full and thick as he throbbed inside me that I was slammed with a rebound of pleasure.
Streaking ribbons and binding bows.
Shot somewhere into heaven or hell or purgatory, I didn’t know.
The only thing I knew was I wanted to ride on it for all of eternity.
So, it was me grasping for him, hands sinking into his skin as I clamored for a breath. For a way to slow my body down, my heart down, when it was already racing for him.
He buried his face in my neck, gasping, his chest heaving as he struggled for a breath. “You are a goddamned miracle.”
My mouth went to his shoulder, kissing at the flesh, tasting his sweat-drenched skin. “Ian,” I whispered through shallow rasps, “Ian.”
My mind whirred as I tried to catch up to what I’d just done. Waiting for guilt to come flooding, this selfish act that I’d taken for myself.