Gypsy could feel herself opening, a part of herself she hadn’t known existed fracturing inside her soul. As though some inner wall were all but falling to rubble as the heat enveloping her seemed to pour from him, into her, then back again.
Collapsing back to the bed, she felt Rule move over her, his larger, harder body covering her. Forcing her lashes open, Gypsy watched as he gripped the thick base of his cock, nudging the crest against her entrance before his gaze lifted to hers.
“That’s it, baby, watch me take you,” he whispered as the thick crest parted the folds of her pu**y and pressed against the snug entrance. “Sweet Gypsy. God help me, so much damned pleasure.”
The groan sounded torn from him, ripped from his chest as Gypsy watched the head of his c**k press deeper, only to pull back, glistening with her juices before pressing inside again and delving deeper.
Her head fell back against the bed, pressing into the pillow as pleasure erupted through her flesh at the heavy stretch and burn of her vagina. Rule eased back, only to return, rocking against her, inside her, stretching her and burning her with a pleasure that had her nails digging into his shoulders, her neck arching as a cry tore from her lips.
She felt his muscles bunch as he pulled back again, his body tensing a second before he powered inside her with a quick, hard thrust that sent a flare of pain arching through her vagina a second before the invading heat stilled, buried mere inches inside her, thick and throbbing.
“Gypsy?” His rough, animalistic tone had her lashes lifting, confusion filling her as she realized he was staring down at her as though shocked.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, running her tongue over her dry lips as she shifted experimentally against him, a heavy mewl of pleasure escaping her lips at the throb of his c**k against her inner flesh.
Then he moved again.
Rule pressed deeper inside her, that feeling of fullness intensifying, heating until she was lifting her hips higher, desperate to take all of him.
Each time he pulled back, easing the burning stretch and ecstasy of the pleasure building inside her, her breath would catch, protest rising inside her. Then he powered inside her again, deeper, fuller.
Her world shrank, narrowed, consisted of nothing but the pleasure crowding her senses, the sensations racing through her, building atop each other as his hips began to move faster, harder.
He thrust inside her with heavy strokes that kept her senses shocked and stunned with the alternate pulses of pleasure and pain, fire and fullness. Writhing beneath him, Gypsy cried out his name, the feel of his pelvis stroking the ultra sensitive bud of her clit as the flared head of his c**k stretched her inner muscles, stroked and discovered nerve endings even Gypsy hadn’t known she possessed, sent her senses flying.
Each measured, hard thrust tightened that coil of sensation building in her womb and echoing in her clit. Each stroke sent so many lashes of pleasure, striking arcs of heat and excitement rasping across her nerve endings that she feared she wouldn’t survive it.
Pounding inside her, the jackhammer thrusts built the agonizing pleasure, pushing it higher, sensitizing her further and tightening her body until she swore she felt the sun erupt inside her pu**y.
A storm of sensation exploded through her. It flared through her, blinding heat followed by flames of ecstasy licking over every nerve ending, stroking and caressing some internal trigger before setting it off and sending clashing rapture reverberating through her senses.
She was jerking in his arms, crying out his name. Her vagina tightened on his c**k as she felt the heavy throb, a thickening of the already wide shaft and that first, heated pulse of his release jetting inside her.
A second later, her arms were empty, her body was empty, the burning rapture shut off mid-orgasm, leaving her confused and cold before she realized his body no longer covered hers. He was no longer finding his release inside her.
Hell, he wasn’t even in the bed with her.
He was standing next to it, his breathing harsh, his blue eyes vivid and wild as he stared down at her, a snarl on his lips revealing the sharpened canines as his c**k stood out from his body, thick and hard and glistening from their combined dampness.
“Rule?” she whispered, her chest suddenly tightening, a feeling of impending doom weighing on her soul and stealing her breath.
“I have to wash up.” His voice sounded odd, too thick, too heavy. “I’ll give you a ride home when I get out of the bathroom.”
He turned and stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him two seconds before she heard the sound of the shower.
The shower?
He was taking a shower?
She stared down at her body, seeing the smear of blood on her thighs, staining the sheet between her legs. She was slick from her need for him, her body still throbbing with remembered bliss.
He would take her home after he washed up?
Why? What had she done wrong?
CHAPTER 14
God, what had he done!