I just guided that beautiful cock to me and watched between us as I took him. Made him fill me. Plunging down and rearing up, frantic and reckless in my need to ignore all that was him lying beneath me and drive myself straight to orgasm like he was any man with any cock I could use to get me off.
And it was getting me off.
I was panting with the burning need to reach the end as well as the effort I was expending to take me there when I saw his ab muscles contract, veins popping out along the hard flesh from black pubic hair to his navel.
God.
Just seeing that…
Almost there.
But he was curling up.
My eyes cut to him and I lifted a hand to his shoulder, forcefully shoving him back down.
And I rode.
One of his hands curled around my hip.
I knocked it away.
And I rode.
A blue flash fired in his eyes and he moved again to press up, lifting several inches off the bed.
I curled my hand around his throat and shoved, taking him back down.
I kept my hand there, held tight, eyes locked to his…
And I rode.
But it had happened. I saw it. I felt it. It was everywhere. It filled the room. It marked his frame. His expression. There was so much of it, I felt it sink into my skin.
I’d taken it too far.
This was proven when, with a feral growl that I could swear originated in his shaft and tore out of his throat at the same time it ripped from my pussy straight through me, his eyes dark and riled, he wrapped an arm tight around my waist. He flipped me to my back. I then found my wrists captured and pressed deep into the bed, his face an inch from mine, his cock pounding brutally between my legs.
And it…
Was…
Astounding.
“Knees high,” he grunted.
Without a thought outside what that would give to me—or what more it’d give to me—I lifted my knees high.
Oh yes.
It gave me more.
“Legs wide,” he bit out.
I acquiesced but not enough.
His thrusts turned savage.
My breaths started to hitch.