I rake my hands up the violin shape of her hips, waist, and chest, fingers diving into her hair to frame her face. "I swear," I growl.
She takes my mouth in a savage kiss, ending with my lower lip seized in her teeth. "Thenshowme."
Eighteen
NOELLE
Straddling him, my heart slams a mile a minute behind my ribs, my pulse thundering in my ears. I'm awash in a chaos of sensations—my skin tingles, flushed and prickling with a raging flow of blood, my arousal rampaging through me like wildfire. His chest hair scratches deliciously rough against my tender, erect, sensitive nipples, sending hot lines of arousal pulsing through me.
His cock fills me…
Overfills me.
Stretches me to a stinging burn, even after several pounding heartbeats of adjustment. The ache is glorious, incredible. Earth-shattering.
I didn't know—I had no idea I could feel this way. That I could be this full—this glutted on ecstasy. I can barely draw a breath, he's so huge inside me, at the very cusp of too big.
My eyes water with the burn of struggling to stretch around him, arousal pulsing like liquid fire in my veins.
Gasping for air, I claw my fingers down his chest, leaving red welts on his skin as I find a new angle, bracing my hands on his belly directly in front of our joined bodies.
I can't stop a moment of awareness—that he…my previous and only other partner, never wanted this position. He liked the control. And the only position he liked was missionary.
But this?
My god.
Thisis what I’ve craved my whole adult life, since the moment I became aware of my sexuality as a young teenage girl first experimenting with the forbidden, sinful pleasures of self-touch. All throughout my marriage, I craved something. I never knew what and couldn’t ask for it; I didn’t have the words, the courage, or the self-awareness to know what I wanted, and I knew my relationship wasn’t a safe place to express my needs and desires even if I could have found the words.
This is it—everything I've ever wanted, ever needed.
Bear.
His primal power, his wild, barbaric strength, his savage need, finally given the freedom to be expressed—in so doing, giving me what I never knew I craved.
His hands scrape down my spine, the cinderblock texture over my skin sending ripples of sensuous need through me. He cradles my ass in his rough, huge hands, gently for a breath and then kneading with gruff, possessive power.
Despite his rough treatment of my body, his eyes are gentle and his words gentler yet: "Okay, baby?" He lifts, sitting up to take my mouth in a soft kiss. "Am I hurting you?"
I shake my head, gripping his beard to hold him close for the kiss until need takes over and I shove him back to the bed.
He flops back down and he paws at my breasts, and then cups them, thumbs rolling over my nipples, dragging a gasp out of me.
Balancing upright on him, I grab his hands and crush them against me, loving the harsh scrape of his calluses, the grit of his thumbs on my nipples, his fingernails flicking, tweaking.
I need to move—Ihaveto. I still ache and burn with the size of him, but it's the best thing I’ve ever felt, cracking my soul apart with love and wonder and pride and pleasure, making my heart slam all the harder with anticipation of how it’ll feel to finally know the glutting size of him sliding through my clenching sex.
I fall forward, hands landing on his chest, and I draw my hips forward, hissing as he slices through my lips. He’s holding utterly still, hands gripping the crease of my hips, thumbs pressing to the tender skin just above where we’re joined. His inhales in synch with the upward slide, and then I sink onto him, crying out with a shrill shriek as he splits me open all over again. The burn, god the burn, the ache, the sting. My eyes water, and I gasp helplessly, head hanging, taking him inside me until my bottom slaps softly against his hips.
Again—pull upward. Hesitate with the head of him almost spilling out of me, and then glide myself back down his shaft, now slick with my leaking essence.
"Bear!" I whimper, gagging on a choked cry as he fills me to the brim and then more and more.
He only growls, that beautiful, animal snarl of arousal shivering into the core of me. His hands tighten around my hips, digging in desperately as he tries to hold still, to give me time to adjust, to accommodate him.
"Fuck," he grates, voice rough and guttural. "You feel…fuck, so fucking good. So perfect." He pushes me down by my hips, driving his hips up to sink deeper inside me. "Gotta move, my love. Fuck, Ihaveto."
"Please," I beg him. "Take me. Show me what you need."
