arms trembled, feeling like Jell-O. With a last bit of effort, he rolled to his back. Her heavy lids widened in surprise as she ended up on top, still impaled.
His chest heaved and he struggled to gather his thoughts. Damn she was fine. He stroked her round bottom, knowing morning would find fingertip bruises there. He wondered how she would react in the light of day. He searched her face. For now she looked content. He nearly groaned as she rolled her hips. Pressing her down, he rocked under her. Big blue eyes widened and she continued her slow circles. His cock stirred. Jesus, she was beautiful.
He cupped a breast and leaned his head up to capture a nipple in his mouth. His eyes drifted closed in bliss as he suckled it ardently. She moved more insistently on him. They enjoyed the slow dance until they were both panting again. He encouraged her to sit up straight. The new position seated his cock deeper. Her eyes grew comically round.
She pushed herself up on her knees in experimentation, slowly posting up and down. He groaned. Her eyes sparkled in triumph as she reveled in her new found power. Mox bit back a chuckle. Gripping her hips, he snapped his upward, slamming her down to meet his thrust. She cried out, her face twisting in agony as he speared her cervix. His heart sank. All playfulness vanished. He’d hurt her. Disgust washed over him. He knew better.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, lifting her free of her perch. Stretching her out on the mattress, he hid his humiliation and self-loathing by burrowing his face between her thighs. She pushed at his shoulders. He wanted to slink away and lick his wounds. Silently begging for the chance to make things up to her, he licked her instead. He nearly cried when her legs wrapped around his neck.
Only when she begged for a break for her over-sensitized body did he let up. Glad for the cover of darkness, he laid beside her unsure of what to say. Rolling to his feet with a muttered curse, he retrieved a warm washcloth from the bathroom. Tenderly, he stroked her damp skin, hoping to wash away any trace of himself and the hurt he’d caused.
He froze when her fingers wrapped around his wrist. Refusing to meet her gaze, he waited for the cutting words. Brute, beast, oaf, it didn’t matter which she chose. He’d heard them all.
“Why’d you do that?”
He swallowed against the pain her simple question invoked. Anger would’ve been easier to deal with. When he spoke, his words were flat. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she whispered, but when he looked up with a snort of disbelief, she backpedaled. “I mean not in a bad way. It was more a hurt so good. I’ve just never been with a man that was so… I mean I’ve never felt anything so…amazing.”
Her words stunned him. He didn’t know what to say to that. Amazing? He searched her face. She looked so sincere.
“I didn’t want you to stop.”
He blinked at her. Was she serious? She lowered her head, picking uncertainly at the stitching on the blanket. His silence hung heavy between them. She had to think him a moron. What the hell did he say to that?
“I didn’t want to stop.”
Her eyes flew up and she laughed. He grinned back at her like a fool. Maybe not the smartest thing to say, but he would look the fool if it meant seeing those dimples.
“Well, next time, don’t,” she said, still giggling as she started adjusting the blankets.
It took his brain a moment to process her words. There was going to be a next time. He didn’t care how stupid he looked. He couldn’t quit smiling. Watching her search in the dark for her discarded pajamas, he knew helping would be the gallant thing, but she looked so damn cute kneeling on the floor with her ass in the air to look under the bed.
His brow furrowed as she finished dressing and retrieving her sleeping bag, unzipped it and spread it over the hide-a-bed. Folding back the coverings she slipped
His chest heaved and he struggled to gather his thoughts. Damn she was fine. He stroked her round bottom, knowing morning would find fingertip bruises there. He wondered how she would react in the light of day. He searched her face. For now she looked content. He nearly groaned as she rolled her hips. Pressing her down, he rocked under her. Big blue eyes widened and she continued her slow circles. His cock stirred. Jesus, she was beautiful.
He cupped a breast and leaned his head up to capture a nipple in his mouth. His eyes drifted closed in bliss as he suckled it ardently. She moved more insistently on him. They enjoyed the slow dance until they were both panting again. He encouraged her to sit up straight. The new position seated his cock deeper. Her eyes grew comically round.
She pushed herself up on her knees in experimentation, slowly posting up and down. He groaned. Her eyes sparkled in triumph as she reveled in her new found power. Mox bit back a chuckle. Gripping her hips, he snapped his upward, slamming her down to meet his thrust. She cried out, her face twisting in agony as he speared her cervix. His heart sank. All playfulness vanished. He’d hurt her. Disgust washed over him. He knew better.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, lifting her free of her perch. Stretching her out on the mattress, he hid his humiliation and self-loathing by burrowing his face between her thighs. She pushed at his shoulders. He wanted to slink away and lick his wounds. Silently begging for the chance to make things up to her, he licked her instead. He nearly cried when her legs wrapped around his neck.
Only when she begged for a break for her over-sensitized body did he let up. Glad for the cover of darkness, he laid beside her unsure of what to say. Rolling to his feet with a muttered curse, he retrieved a warm washcloth from the bathroom. Tenderly, he stroked her damp skin, hoping to wash away any trace of himself and the hurt he’d caused.
He froze when her fingers wrapped around his wrist. Refusing to meet her gaze, he waited for the cutting words. Brute, beast, oaf, it didn’t matter which she chose. He’d heard them all.
“Why’d you do that?”
He swallowed against the pain her simple question invoked. Anger would’ve been easier to deal with. When he spoke, his words were flat. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she whispered, but when he looked up with a snort of disbelief, she backpedaled. “I mean not in a bad way. It was more a hurt so good. I’ve just never been with a man that was so… I mean I’ve never felt anything so…amazing.”
Her words stunned him. He didn’t know what to say to that. Amazing? He searched her face. She looked so sincere.
“I didn’t want you to stop.”
He blinked at her. Was she serious? She lowered her head, picking uncertainly at the stitching on the blanket. His silence hung heavy between them. She had to think him a moron. What the hell did he say to that?
“I didn’t want to stop.”
Her eyes flew up and she laughed. He grinned back at her like a fool. Maybe not the smartest thing to say, but he would look the fool if it meant seeing those dimples.
“Well, next time, don’t,” she said, still giggling as she started adjusting the blankets.
It took his brain a moment to process her words. There was going to be a next time. He didn’t care how stupid he looked. He couldn’t quit smiling. Watching her search in the dark for her discarded pajamas, he knew helping would be the gallant thing, but she looked so damn cute kneeling on the floor with her ass in the air to look under the bed.
His brow furrowed as she finished dressing and retrieving her sleeping bag, unzipped it and spread it over the hide-a-bed. Folding back the coverings she slipped
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