“Outside your bed,” he growled.
Her head shook desperately, her h*ps straining against him.
“Only my bed. Not theirs.”
He snarled again, pulled his tortured c**k back before working inside her again.
“Does it hurt?”
“God yes!” she cried. “More. Just do it. More.”
His head tipped back on his shoulders as his h*ps pressed forward. Pulled back. Gave her more. Her sharp cries were breaking his control. He needed to bury inside her. He needed the full length of his tortured dick surrounded by all that tight, wet heat.
“Please, Tanner.”
Her strangled scream, the scent of her need, her pu**y flexing around his c**k and her tight little rear tightening on his fingers were too much.
His control broke.
Scheme screamed. She couldn’t help herself, not that the sound held any true power. You had to breathe to scream effectively. She couldn’t breathe. She was too hot. She was burning, fevered with lust and so full, stretched so tight the pleasure/pain of it was just short of too much.
Her shoulders fell to the mattress, her fingers clenching in the quilt as she cried. Tears actually squeezed from beneath her lashes. There was too much pleasure. Too much of the sensations she had never experienced before but always reached for.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He was snarling behind her, growling. “So f**king tight.”
His fingers moved in her rear, rotating, rubbing. His erection pulled back, spreading the excess moisture along the sensitized channel before spearing inside her again.
It was too much. The first orgasm was a hard, drowning wave. It rushed through her, over her, shuddered up her spine and sizzled in her brain. It caught her so off guard that she was gasping, clawing at the bed, her own mewls of ever-increasing ecstasy stealing what breath she had left.
“Damn you!” he cursed.
He stilled inside her, his c**k throbbing, the needs inside her far from sated.
She needed it again. Oh God please, just one more time.
“Please…” She was barely aware she was begging, pleading. “More. More.”
The hand gripping her h*ps snaked around the front of her thighs, his fingers finding her clit. His fingers moved more demandingly in her rear, and his h*ps thrust. Hard. Powerful. Deep plunging strokes as his fingers milked her clit.
And that growly thing.
The heat in her rear.
The overstretched flesh of her pu**y.
More deep plunging strokes. Hard, forceful, stripping away her inhibitions, tearing past her restraint.
The second orgasm destroyed her. It exploded in every cell of her body, every molecule. She felt the muscles of her vagina tightening on him, heard his curses behind her, and felt the deep, hard pulses of her juices meeting the forceful spurts of his release. She was lost within a maelstrom she could have never imagined existed. A whirlwind of so many sensations, so much pleasure, that her brain just couldn’t process it all.
But when it did, the fever was calmed, sated, exhaustion washing over her and sending her collapsing to the bed.
She was barely aware of him falling to the mattress beside her. For some reason, she was very aware of his arms coming around her though, pulling her tight to his chest as he jerked the quilt over her rapidly cooling body.
For the first time in her life, after sex, she was sated. Even more, she was content.
BUREAU OF BREED AFFAIRS
WASHINGTON, D.C.