Her legs slid around his muscle-thick waist and of a sudden his manhood was snugged against her sex, hard and slick, leaving no doubt he would fit—if it was the last thing she ever did.
He tightened his grip around her hips, and his gaze caught hers and held, refusing to release her as the tip of his shaft pressed against the entrance of her sex.
Masterful, that was the word that came to her.
Though this Rory was one she hardly knew, she trusted him.
She wanted him.
She had to have him.
She lifted onto one elbow as her other hand reached out. She needed to touch him. One by one, her fingers wrapped around his thick shaft. His eyes flared into black as the pupils pushed irises into thin turquoise rings. Her hand hardly fit around him as she gave a slow pull up his length. A groan poured from him, his gaze roving across her naked body, settling on her sex, open and aching to be filled by him.
“Like for like,” he murmured.
“It’s only fair.”
Somehow as she stroked him, even as he pressed against her sex, her desire—nay, pure unadulteratedlust—spiked higher.
“I need you,” she said, her hips giving a restless swivel, desperate for even an inch of him.
His grip tightened around her, and he pushed forward. Her fingers released him as he entered her, inch by measured inch, her sex stretching to accommodate, oh, so much man.
“Should I stop?” he asked, flashing a bit of the Rory she knew.
She only realized she’d been biting her bottom lip between her teeth. “Don’t you dare.”
And there it was again: the glint of wickedness behind his eyes, and he continued his slow, deliberate penetration of her. A light sheen of perspiration pinpricked her skin. Oh, how much more of him could there possibly be?
He slid one arm behind her back, lifting as she continued to stretch around him, and gathered her close. “You control the motion.”
Uncertainty flashed through her. She didn’t like being uncertain. “I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do.”
The confidence in his gaze was enough for her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and crossed one ankle over the other behind him. It wasn’t only her sex that felt so full of him, but her entire being to her soul.
He gave a shallow thrust, and she gasped. Instinctively, her hips swiveled against him, then they were moving with him, as he stroked in and out of her, oddly gentle. A strange sort of frustration clawed at her. “You’re being too…” She trailed, squirming against him.
“Rough?” He sounded genuinely concerned.
“Polite,” she corrected. “I shall not break. I can assure you.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded. Whatever wickedness his body could devise for hers, she wanted.
The intention in his gaze doubled, and he took command of the pleasure doled out. Deeper he filled her, testing the limits of what she could tolerate. Oh, the exquisite pain and pleasure of coitus. How her body responded to it—this push and pull of boundaries she would only explore with him…pushing her even beyond them.
Her mouth found his neck and licked and sucked and nipped, spurring him on as the movement of his hips became more focused and unrelenting. Oh, what had she asked for?
This, a voice whispered.
The building sensation began winding through her sex again, turning her into a mindless entity. It was only her and this man and the pleasure they brought each other that mattered in the entire universe.
This feeling coiling and strumming through her sex was no easy mistress. It made demands on her. “Rory, oh, I don’t know… I don’t know…”
“Shh,” he said. “You don’t have to know,here.” He touched her forehead. “You only have tofeel”—he cupped a breast and angled his head to suck a hardened tip. She arced back as he moved in and out of her—“me.”