Arrogant Bastard - Jennifer Dawson Page 0,74

to tangle in my hair.

Encouraged, I slide the tip into my mouth, working my tongue down his length.

A guttural sound emerges from his throat. “Good girl.”

I experience a surge of pride at his approval that I don’t want to think too much about. But I double my efforts, taking him as far into my mouth as I can before pulling back out again.

“Fuck.” His fingers tighten in my hair. “So good, Catarina. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

In answer I slide back down, taking him deeper and deeper until I gag and pull back up.

“Pretty soon you’re going to learn how to push past that reflex, and I’m going to come down your tight throat.” He fists my hair and pulls, forcing me to release him.

I look up and he delivers a brutal kiss that actually curls my toes and has me straining to meet him.

He releases my lips and whispers, “But right now I want to fuck you.”

“Yes.”

“Put on the condom.”

I lean back and do what I’m told, sliding the latex down his shaft.

I glance up at him, and kneeling like I am, I must look like an eager puppy. The visual should stop me cold, but I can’t work up the energy to care. All my energy is expended in wanting him.

He smiles and pushes me backward.

Spreading my thighs wide, he plays over my clit before he grips my legs and pushes slowly inside.

He stretches me, inch by inch. Pulling out before surging back.

Shallow and then deep.

Stilling as my body accommodates him.

And when he’s finally inside me, I grip his arm and pull him down, so grateful he doesn’t fight me. When his chest brushes my over sensitive breasts, I let out a soft moan.

My head falls back and I say, “Yes, this is what I want, your skin on mine.”

“Yes.” He covers me, whispering in my ear. “Your skin on mine. My cock inside you.”

“Yes,” I whisper against his cheek. “I’ve been wanting it so long.”

“Me too, baby.” He bites my neck, sucking the flesh where my pulse is pounding away.

“I like that.” Confession feels right in this moment. It’s been a long time since I felt vulnerable, when I wasn’t protecting myself and deflecting. I want to let it all go, so I do it again—admit what I like. “Almost as much as when you call me Catarina.”

He shifts his hips, circling—grinding against me in a slow, torturous rhythm. “Your cunt is so tight.”

I gasp at his next pass, surging to meet him. I grip his hips with my thighs, digging my nails into his skin. “You’re so good.”

He nips my jawline. “We’re so good.”

“I want more.”

“You want to come.”

“Yes.”

“Greedy girl.” He kisses me. “I like it.”

Then he begins to move in earnest. He pulls out and slams back in, over and over and finally, at long last, what I’ve been searching for, wanting from him overtakes me.

We’re joined.

Moving together.

The bed protesting under us.

Our breaths, harsh and panting, filling the air.

His cock demanding and relentless.

I finally feel claimed. Taken. Possessed by him.

Consumed.

He thrusts inside me, high.

I meet him.

My hips jerking up.

Harder.

Faster.

Deeper.

And just like that, I tip over the edge.

The orgasm screams through me, wracking my body, quaking me to the core in its force. I bite my lip to keep the feral sounds in my throat, but they won’t be contained as pleasure crashes through me.

It’s powerful and life affirming.

I cry out.

He picks up his pace, following me into oblivion, my name tumbling from his lips as he spills into me.

When it’s over, he collapses on top of me before rolling over and taking me with him, so I’m splayed on top of him, somehow still joined.

We’re damp with sweat, the room is humid with sex and spent desire, and I feel more boneless than I’ve ever felt in my life.

My cheek against his chest, his breathing a ragged rush in my ear. I can’t remember the last time I felt so right, so exactly in the place I’m supposed to be, and I don’t want to lose it. Not now. Not ever.

I manage to say, “Wow.”

He laughs, stroking a hand down my spine. “Definitely wow.”

My fingers dance over his stomach, soaking in the fact that I can touch him. “It was worth the wait.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He sounds sleepy.

My lashes drift closed. “I feel like I should say something profound.”

His hand drifts down my back, stroking over my skin. “How about, we’re fucked?”

My body is growing heavy, and the rhythmic

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