I flopped back down on the bed and let him have his way with me. Fortunately, this time when he lowered his head again, he didn’t taunt me. No, he found the spot on my clit that made me cry out and clench my thighs around his head and pushed me to the brink, then over.
Colors swirled behind my eyelids as I screamed. With my thighs over his ears, I had no doubt the sound was muffled for him. But he knew I was coming. My pussy flooded with my juices, my inner walls clenching and squeezing his fingers. When had I tangled my fingers in his hair?
With one gentle kiss on my clit, he came up over me. I opened my eyes, saw him smirking, quite pleased with himself.
“That’s one.”
I was too relaxed to do more than frown. “One?”
“Orgasm. You’re going to have many of them.”
“Oh god,” I whispered, my eyes falling closed. My skin was damp with sweat, my pussy tingling and swollen, but I ached for his cock. “More.”
I was such a slut with him—I’d never behaved this way before—but I wanted more orgasms. I wanted so many I blacked out.
Lowering his hips, he brushed his cock over slick flesh, the contact making me whimper.
“Is that what you want?”
I nodded my head.
He slid in an inch, stilled.
“More?”
I opened my eyes, met his, nodded again. “More.”
He slid in another inch.
“Kiel!” I cried in exasperation. I slid my hands from his lower back and over the flexing muscles of his butt, tried to pull him into me. Shifting my knees, I adjusted so he could go even deeper.
“You’re not in control here, mate. I am. Your pleasure is mine. It’s my honor and privilege to give it to you.”
“Then give it to me now,” I whined. His flared head stretched me open and I wanted more. I wanted deeper. I wanted all of him.
“Bossy thing, aren’t you?” With one deep plunge, he filled me completely. I gasped, arched my head back. “Like that?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
He pulled back until just the crown held me open, then drove deep again. I was wet, so very wet that I could hear it. This wasn’t tame sex. This wasn’t a quickie. This was raw, dirty, powerful.
“Yes,” I repeated, starting a chant that matched his motions until I was shifting to take him, to take it all. Until I came.
I was a sweaty, weak, sated mess. When I had the strength to open my eyes, I saw him grinning, proud of his virility and ability to please his mate. His cock was still hard and he had the calm focus of a man who was far from coming.
His focus on me was laser sharp. He’d given me one orgasm and the way he started to move his hips again, he was prepared to give me one more.
“All night, mate,” he vowed, reaching down and rubbing his thumb gently over my already sensitive clit. “Forever.”
I whimpered, knowing I was completely at his—and his cock’s—mercy. All night, yes. Forever? Impossible. I pushed that thought from my mind and let him rule my body, because come morning, I’d be gone.
So I gave over to him. All. Night. Long.
I let what this thing was between us consume me.