For someone like me, a man who trained in the muck with his men and could take care of himself was a greater turn-on than any supermodel or movie star.
“Next time,” he murmured as he lifted me and then repositioned me onto a ledge. One I never would have known was there in the dark.
“I have to be inside you. It’s been too fucking long.”
“Hurry.” I clutched at his shoulders, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.
The sound of his zipper sliding sent a shiver down my spine.
God, I wanted this. Needed this.
With my dress pushed up far enough for him to step between my legs, he gripped my hip with one hand and shifted my thong to the side with the other. The heat from his straining, thick, hard cock teased my aching pussy.
I squirmed as the urge to pull him closer drove at me.
Fuck. This driving desperation had me on the edge of losing my mind.
When his velvety, bulbous head brushed against my dripping opening, it took everything inside me not to beg him to just put me out of my misery.
He’d been my only lover for nearly three years, and going without him for all these weeks seemed like a lifetime.
“God, I missed how wet you get for me.” He slid in a fraction and then pulled out, eliciting a whimper from my lips.
That was it. I was taking things into my own hands.
However, before I could do anything, he plunged to the hilt inside me.
“Fuck, Sam,” I cried out, not expecting the exquisite sting of discomfort.
I closed my eyes and reveled in the onslaught of sensations cascading through my body. It was almost too much, too overwhelming.
And I never wanted it to stop.
I’d only ever felt this way with him.
He shouldn’t have this kind of hold on me. Not someone like me.
I commanded and called the shots. With him, I surrendered too much control.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I wrapped my arms around Sam’s neck and drew him to me. Using that as a cue, he adjusted his hold on my hips, pulled out, and then slammed back in, setting the hard, brutal pace he knew I loved.
My pussy responded, spasming with each plunge of his cock.
He kneaded and massaged my ass, tugging me back and forth into every wicked thrust. I’d undoubtedly have bruises on my hips and back from this vicious pounding. And I’d take all he gave because every inch of me loved it.
“More. I need more.”
“I know.”
He rolled his hips in that perfect way, hitting all the right spots inside me with each pummeling thrust. My body answered his demands by quickening first with tiny tremors and then clenching around his pistoning shaft.
Heat pooled deep in my core, building higher and higher. My skin burned, and sweat tinged every part of me.
If only I could see his face. I loved watching him. His intensity drove my desire higher.
This was part of the punishment for leaving him.
I had no doubt.