Her eyes are wide and shimmering. "Bear, I beg you—I'mbeggingyou to hear what I'm saying right now. I mean it down to the bottom of my heart and soul. Okay?" She takes my hands in hers, squeezing them with all her strength. “I amnotmade of glass. I’m not. I’mstrong. I know exactly how much power you have in these big, strong, rough hands. I’ve seen what they can do. They can create. They can destroy. But you know what? I know you won't. I know—Iknowas well as I know my own name—Iknowdown to my soul that you cannot, will not ever,everhurt me. Are you listening to me right now, my love?"
I nod. Swallow hard. Breath is on fire, body tense, shaking. "I'm listening."
“Take what I'm saying to heart. I'll repeat it as many times as you need until you understand. Until you trust it." She lifts on her toes to get closer to me. "What you just described? What you said you wanted to do?” She tugs me down by my beard roughly. Lips to my ear, whispering. “Iwantthat.”
Shock leaves me stunned. "You…do?"
"Godyes," she breathes. "I want it all. I want it sweet and slow. I want it hard and rough. I want it in between. I don’t know how I want it, I just know I want it." She digs her nails into my sides. "I…I need to confess something, and I’m scared to."
"Don't be."
I hear her swallow, see the scarlet flush of her cheeks. "When you're a little rough? When you pull my hair, or…or grab my—my ass and squeeze hard? I like it. I don't want to behurt. But when you’re a little bit of rough?” She nibbles on her lower lip, teeth sinking into the crimson-painted flesh, her eyes wide and shimmering and scorching with undeniable arousal. "I don’t just want that, Bear. I freakingneedit."
I hold her eyes with mine, breath coming in long, grating gusts, almost growls. My hands, having been loosely resting on the bell curve of her naked hips, slip down and around to the taut silk glory of her ass. I grip hard, squeezing and kneading the plump, juicy cheeks with enough force that I'm pretty sure she'll have fingerprints bruised into the flesh.
Instead of a cry of pain or a shift away, an erotic whimper falls from her parted lips, and she crushes herself against my body, and her fingernails claw into my chest, leaving crescent-shaped divots.
Encouraged and further aroused by the intense sensuality of her response, I'm emboldened to test her a bit more. See how much of my full, true, rabid, primal need she can handle.
It's a beast I've never given free rein, always kept mostly shackled, too fearful of my own power, my ability to accidentally cause pain, especially in the throes of release.
Now, after almost eleven years in prison and months of pent-up sexual desire, attraction, and need, I feel a very real, very manic, and almost insane level of need. For her.
I bend at the knees, curl my hands around her thighs below her ass and lift—it's an almost violent movement, yanking her airborne and against my body. Her cry of surprise is shrill, breathless, and eager, and her thighs wedge around my waist, heels hooking at my ass, tits at face level, arms resting on my shoulders, hands burying in my hair.
She slants her mouth across mine, a whimpering gasp accompanying the demanding, hungry kiss. I growl and thrust my tongue into her mouth, and our teeth knock together. I stagger forward a few steps, dizzied by the ferocious hunger I feel Noelle giving me. As rough as I am, she only seems to want more.
The door rattles in the frame as I slam her against it, pinning her to it with my body. Kiss her harder, deeper, tongue sweeping her mouth, my hands crushing into the sweet, generous curves of her ass. She moans low in her throat, knotting her hands in my hair, the sting at my scalp only fueling the flames of my arousal.
Pinning her to the door with my hips, I lean away and cover her tits with my hands, cupping and gripping—her head thunks against the door as a gasp rips out of her at my ungentle caress.
I yank the lingerie down past her shoulders, and her huge, lush, ivory tits spring free, bare and quivering, heaving and shaking and swaying with her frantic breaths. I scrape my palms over her nipples and then scoop the heavy globes into my hands and lift them to my mouth. Suckle a pert, thick, pink nipple into my mouth with my teeth, earning me a hiss of shocked pleasure. Her hands tighten in my hair and shove my face against her chest, and her hips gyrate against my belly, the knot of my towel a hard wedge between our bodies.
God, I need more of her.
Thoughtless, now, lost in the fiery haze of unbridled need, I grasp the edges of sapphire lace in my hands just below her gasp-shaking tits.
"Tell me I’m too rough," I plead, desperate to hear her deny my demand. "Tell me not to rip this goddamned thing off your body."
"No," she breathes. “Fuckno. Never."
It's the curse that breaks the chains of my control.
With a snarl, I shred the lace apart with a savage yank, and the garment splits open down the middle, hanging open to the apex of her sex, hanging loose around her hips. A shrill gasp at my barbaric action makes those tits bounce hypnotically.
My eyes rake over her beauty, down to her sex. "Sweet little pussy is dripping wet," I growl, and who the fuck is this speaking this way?
"So wet for you," Noelle breathes, and she swipes her two middle fingers through her seam, whimpering at her touch, gathering her essence on her fingers, which she slips into my mouth. "Taste me, Bear."
A raspy, tight-throated moan escapes me at the sugar of her on my tongue. Who is she? Who is this wild woman, this unabashedly wanton, erotic creature in my arms?
Mine.
She's mine. This primal, demanding sexuality is only for me—pride and a savage, jealous possessiveness surges through me, demanding I claim her, mark her as mine.
I pivot, and she shrieks at the abrupt swing, giggling breathily and clinging to my neck, grinning madly and laughing as I march to the bed and fling her onto it from several feet away.
She flies airborne for a moment, lands heavily on the mattress, bounces once, curves jiggling and quivering, making my cock spasm. She lands sideways on the bed, and before she can gather her wits or move or even laugh again, I grab her ankles and drag her across the bed to the very edge. I tear the tattered remains of the lingerie off of her and sink to my knees and throw her legs over my shoulders and bury my face between her thighs, the tender silk of them against my face and neck. The pungent scent of her desire fills my nostrils, eliciting a hungry growl from me as I thrust my face into her pussy, tongue driving inside her, my mouth fusing to her lips.
