His grip on my hip tightened, jaw hardening, pupils dilating as my response hung heavy in the air between us.
As if the sexual tension in the room hadn’t been thick and tumultuous before, it was now even more so. More turbulent. More violent.
“Face forward.”
His demand sent a chill through me, stomach clenching, heart pounding.
I followed his command, turning my eyes ahead, my breaths coming quickly as I waited for his next move. He drove into me again, this time more savage and unforgiving than before, fingers digging into my skin. I screamed, chest heaving, soul singing.
“Too much?” he asked, peppering kisses along my shoulder blades, the tenderness of his mouth a complete change from the brutality and viciousness with which he just drove into me.
I took several deep breaths, eyes squeezed shut. Then I shook my head. “Harder.”
“Fuck,” he hissed, his own heavy pants echoing around us. He retreated once more, thumb deftly rubbing my clit, my pleasure increasing with every practiced ministration.
Then he plunged into me, our cries intermingling. This time, he didn’t stop, driving into me over and over. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, struggling to find something to hold onto. Something to keep me grounded when it felt like my soul had left my body, the bliss almost too much for me to handle.
Lachlan ran his hands down my arms, fingers linking with mine, keeping me locked in place as he moved faster, using me to chase away his sorrow.
As he chased away mine.
He nipped at my skin, the ache invigorating, making me want more.
“Harder,” I begged. “Bite me harder.”
I didn't know what came over me. I’d never been this vocal during sex. About my wants and desires.
But with Lachlan, it felt natural. Like I could tell him what I wanted without worrying he’d judge me. Instead, he’d do everything he could to fulfill my fantasies.
He hesitated, not wanting to hurt me.
“Please. I need it.”
Unable to deny me, he clamped onto my neck, the pain nearly blinding. But it was no match for the pleasure shooting through me, the combination of his teeth on me, body over me, and erection inside me pushing me over the edge. I detonated around him, crying out as waves of euphoria filled me.
“Fuck, Julia,” he grunted, hands going to my hips as he increased his motions to a scintillating pace, prolonging my pleasure with every thrust. He was ruthless and determined as he chased his own orgasm, his own feeling of bliss, until he released a strangled groan. Giving a final jerk, he collapsed on top of me, our heavy breaths surrounding us, my body still tingling from the aftereffects.
After several moments, he straightened, helping me upright, as well. I opened my mouth, about to make some lame joke to cut through the tension, but before I could, he pulled my body to his.
I didn’t have it in me to fight him, to insist on running to the bathroom to clean up, especially when I felt the evidence of his desire trickling down my leg. Just as I knew he needed to feel powerful and in control minutes ago, I knew he needed this now.
“Forgive me,” he murmured against my hair.
I sighed, relishing in his embrace. “I don’t need to forgive you. I accept you, Lachlan. Faults and all.”
He exhaled a breath, holding me tighter than anyone ever had.