“Annika, fuck—fuck, you’re perfect.”
“Touch my clit.”
I obey immediately, press a thumb to her clit, and she cries out at the first touch. Sinks down—and it’s not a slow, gentle movement. It’s rough, and fast. The slick squelch of her sex around mine is loud and wet and erotic.
“Jesus, Annika. Never…never felt this. Never knew it could be like this.”
“Me…me either.” Her eyes fly open and pierce me. “More, Chance. Harder. Take me. Fuck me.”
She shows me the way, as if knowing I’m not there yet, that I don’t trust it. That I don’t trust I won’t hurt her.
She leans forward onto her palms and pushes backward, sliding me deep. Draws forward. Pushes down. She goes slowly at first. Each time I bury into her, she groans, hoarse, breathless. I reach between us and press my middle finger to her clit, following her movements, circling the sensitive nub of flesh. I feel her respond, watch her rise to it—she speeds her movements, pushing down onto me and sliding forward faster and faster. Fucking herself on me. Fucking me.
Taking me.
All of me.
Faster and faster.
“Please, Chance. I need you.” She whimpers as my cock slides home, and she pauses there, drives down harder, grinding against me, rolling her hips—taking more and more until I’m so deep inside her beauty it aches, hurts so good. “Please, Chance.”
“Ahhh fuck, Nik,” I groan, abandoning her clit to grasp her hips in my hands. “Heaven—you’re heaven.”
“Thenshowme.” Her voice is ragged. “I need you.”
“You have me.”
“I need more of you.”
“You have all of me.”
She drags her palm down my cheek, rubbing her thumb over my lip in an echo of the gesture I always use on her; green eyes spark fire. “I want you tofuckme, Chance,” she says, enunciating each word clearly. “I want you to make love to me. I want you to fuckingtakeme. BecauseI can take it. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole life. Make me yours, Chance.” She cradles my head in her arms, my face alongside hers, and begins moving on me again, sinking deep. “Because baby…you—are—mine.” The last word is cried out, shrill, as our hips knock together.
That snaps something inside me. Breaks me. Shatters the last of my walls, dissolving my fear in the flashflood of…
Love.
God, it’s love. She loves me. I love her. Fuck, it’s real. It’s true.
The knowledge explodes inside me, cracking my heart open in my chest and setting my blood on fire.
I grab her hair in my fist and bring her mouth to mine, and I kiss her, savagely, brutally, beautifully. She moans into the kiss, softening above me, mouth fusing with mine. My other hand grips her hip, squeezes an ass cheek, and pushes her down onto me, harder, deeper. She whimpers, my cock sliding so deep there’s nowhere further for me to drive.
My balls ache with the need to release, but I hold it back with iron control. Not yet. Not even close.
I let go of her hair and seize her other hip. One arm along my chest with her palm on my cheek, her other slung around my neck with her hand tangled in my hair, she breaks the kiss but breathes against my mouth, lips and teeth mated. I haul her up, groaning as I lose her heat around me, lose her tightness like a vise on my cock.
“Please please pleasepleaseplease…” she chants—and I slam her down and thrust up into her. “Yesfuck, fuck,god, Chance,YES!” The last word is screamed.
“Annika—” I snarl. “Tell me if—”
“Shutup,” she snaps. “You’re perfect. You’re everything I’ve ever fantasized about.”
I slam my back head back into the pillows and then crane my neck so I can watch us, watch her spine moving in sinuous, serpentine ripples, watching her thick beautiful round ass rise and tilt upward as she moves up me and I haul her higher, and watching as her ass lowers and spreads apart to sink down around me, her sweet pussy taking me, swallowing around my cock, stretching and sliding.
“Oh fuck, Chance,fuck,” she groans, and I love how dirty her mouth is when she’s lost in our perfection. “So good. There’s never been anything this good.”
“Nothing,” I agree on a gasp. “Nothing, not ever.”
