In her head, she screamed no—even hell no, but her body gave him a sultry yes and even purred to make sure he understood she was giving her consent.
Above her, she saw the street kid the news articles claimed he'd been in the past. It was the idea of what kind of trouble he could still get into that made her interested. The articles stated that the younger Serge Adams was rumored to be out of control, a hot head, and running from the law since he was six years old and homeless, living with his younger brother and prostitute mother.
Her first impression of him had scared her. He was powerful, dominating, and too conceited. He was the forbidden fruit, tempting her. Something about him, barely holding on to polite society, knowing he was hard and unbending to the core, thrilled her.
He grabbed the waist of her jeans. She jolted. "Wait."
"What now?"
"I know I'm clean, but I don't know..."
"I'll take care of you." He dragged the material down her legs. "I have a condom."
"Okay. Okay. Protection is a good thing." She tried to hide her disappointment when he straightened.
She fisted his hoodie, wanting to tell him to go ahead. He'd teased her about oral sex, and she wanted that.
Only half-dressed, the cool air prickled her skin. She sat up, and he caressed her sides as he grabbed the hem of her shirt. She raised her arms, letting him undress her. Nothing stopped him from seeing every inch of her in the light from her bedroom.
He planted his hand on her stomach, pressing her down until she was horizontal on the mattress. Every muscle in her relaxed under his touch, except one hidden deep inside her, making her quiver.
Serge buried his face against her neck, growling against her skin. Her pleasure rose, and she gave one final effort to raise her hand and grab his attention. Her fingers sank into his hair.
"Please." She tugged.
He kissed his way past her ribs, over her abdomen, and parted her legs, putting his mouth on her pussy.
The warmth. His tongue. The caress.
He slid his hands underneath her, cupping her ass. She arched against his mouth. Digging her feet into the comforter, she tried to fight against the orgasm that wanted to come and take over. She wanted this feeling to last longer. Last forever.
Serge turned his head, kissed the inside of her thigh, and moved up her body. Trembling, she locked her ankles behind his calves, not letting him go as he extracted a condom out of his wallet, unzipped his jeans, and released his cock.
A big, hard, beautiful cock. Maybe the size got bigger as a man aged. She swallowed hard, imagining him filling her.
"Oh, wow," she whispered, blinking at the sight of him.
He rolled on the protection, lowered himself, and nibbled on her neck. "Last chance to tell me no."
She closed her eyes and went against common sense. "Yes."
He thrust. She gasped. Her whole body seized. Holding onto his arms, she panted at the intrusion. She tried to decipher if she was tense or if he was really that big—she knew the answer. He was really that big.
Underneath her hands, his muscles constricted and became harder. She moved her hips, trying to judge how much more she'd need to take, and he slowly withdrew. A shuddering exhale left her body at the instant relief.
Before she could gain her breath back, he slid back in, pinning her to the bed. She moaned, expecting discomfort, and only received pleasure.
He gazed into her eyes, holding himself still. She moved against him. No longer in shock, she could enjoy the way he felt inside of her.
She dug her nails into his biceps. "Please."
He moved in and out. The strokes were long and slow. Her body warmed. She needed more. She squirmed below him. Each agonizing stroke ignited her pleasure.
He ground against her. "Look at me."
She inhaled a shuddering breath, so...so close. Then she opened her eyes.
The intensity of his dark gaze penetrated her and brought her release. She convulsed in pleasure, wave after wave. His eyes warmed, and if she thought she was done, she soon discovered otherwise.
