Trust Fund Fiance - Naima Simone Page 0,44

and kissed his wide chest. But his lean hips, that V above them designed to drive women wild with lust, his powerful, muscular thighs, and God, his dick. Long, thick and wide, the swollen tip reached to just under his navel. Maybe she should feel some kind of trepidation at taking him inside her. But no, with the renewed rush of desire flooding her veins, she craved having him fill her. She ached for it. Maybe then this emptiness would dissipate.

Ezekiel paused to grab his wallet from his pants before tossing them aside. From the depths of the black leather billfold, he withdrew a couple of small square foils and tossed one on the bed before ripping open the other.

She waited for him, equal parts eagerness and nerves. There was no turning back—not that she wanted to. She didn’t fool herself into believing there wouldn’t be consequences for this decision. For both of them.

Yet, as he sheathed himself and climbed on the bed, crawling over her body, she didn’t care about the costs. Not when his gaze burned into hers. Not when he settled between her thighs. Not when he cradled her face between his large palms.

Not when his cock nudged her entrance and slowly penetrated her.

She gasped at the welcome, coveted intrusion. Whimpered at the low-level fire of the stretching. Clutched his shoulders at the unmistakable sense of being claimed.

“Zeke,” she whispered, burrowing her face into the nook between his throat and shoulder. “Please.”

She shifted restlessly beneath him, unsure how to alleviate the pressure that contained both pleasure and the barest bite of pain. It’d been so long for her, that as he pushed, steadily burying himself inside her, she couldn’t remain still. Had to find the position, the place that would relieve the ache...or agitate it more.

“Shh,” he soothed, tilting her head up and brushing his mouth across hers. “Relax for me, Ray.” Another stroke of his lips even as he continued to gain more access to her body, drive farther inside her. “Relax and take me. That’s it,” he praised, momentarily closing his eyes as she lifted her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back. Allowing him to surge deeper. “Fuck, that’s good, sweetheart. So good,” he ground out.

He held himself still above her, only his mouth moving over hers, his tongue mimicking his possession of her body. She returned every kiss, losing herself in him. Gradually, the hint of pain subsided, and only pleasure remained. Pure, mind-bending pleasure.

On a gasp, she arched her neck, pressing her head back into the mattress. Savoring him buried so deep inside her. Impatience rippled through her, and she rocked her hips, demanding he move. Demanding he take her.

Levering off her chest, he stared down at her, green eyes bright, expression dark.

“Ready?” he growled.

“Yes,” she murmured, curling her hands around his strong upper arms. “Please.”

With his attention pinned on her face, he withdrew his length, the weightiness of it dragging over newly awakened nerves. She groaned, twisting beneath him. Needing more. Hating how empty she felt when she’d just been so full. But a jerk of his hips granted her wish. He plunged back inside her with a force that stole the air from her lungs, the thoughts from her head.

Over and over, he took her, thrusting, driving, riding. On the end of each stroke, he ground his hips against her so he massaged that swollen bundle of nerves cresting the top of her sex. She’d become a sexual creature void of rational thought, only craving the ecstasy each plunge inside her promised. She raced after it, writhing and bucking beneath him, demanding he give her everything, hold nothing back from her.

And he didn’t.

Crushing his mouth to hers, he reached between their straining, sweat-slicked bodies and circled her clitoris, once, twice, and before he could finish the third stroke, she shattered.

She came with a scream, throwing her head back, body quaking with wave after wave of release. For a second, she fought the power of it. But as he continued to thrust into her, riding out the orgasm so she received every measure of it, she submitted to the pleasure, to the loss of control.

And as she dived into the black abyss, she didn’t hesitate or worry.

Because she knew, at least for the moment, she wasn’t alone.

Twelve

As Ezekiel steered his Jaguar up the quiet Pine Valley street, he glanced at his wife. His wife. He rubbed a hand over his beard before returning it to