The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,41

her entrance with the head of my cock.

“I want them to know I fucked my dream man tonight,” she croons, and I laugh.

“Dream man?”

She turns her head over her shoulder and holds me in the sweet snare of her azure gaze. “Yes. My dream man. Who looks like a king and fucks me like I’m his queen. Who is so fierce and so raw on the inside that he bleeds everything he’s feeling straight into his eyes,” she pants.

My heart stutters to a stop at how sure she sounds and how good it feels to be seen.

I lean down, press a kiss to her mouth, and start fucking her again. She breaks the kiss and presses her face into the table with a deep, satisfied moan.

I sweep her few errant curls off her shoulders and press my mouth into the slope where her shoulder meets her neck and press forward with hard, shallow thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The feeling of being balls deep inside her is indescribable.

I feel like a fucking king.

I surge forward and drive her into the table. Her booted foot makes contact with my shin, and I ask, “Are you okay?” without slowing my rhythm. She nods. I fist my hand in her hair and pull a fist full of her hair back. I press our cheeks together.

“Jesus, you feel like a goddamn dream. I want to watch you come,” I pull out of her and turn her on her back. I thrust back into her in one long, hard push of my hips.

“Ahhhhh,” she wails and I get to watch the achingly beautiful expression on her face when my name pushes up her throat and out of her mouth in the sexiest whimper I’ve ever heard.

I push even deeper.

“Yes, sing for me, Tesoro,” I coax her. Her facial expression ebbs between ecstasy and pain, and then to bliss while I fuck her. My hand is grasping her thigh and her arms are flung wide on the table.

I pull the straps of her sleeves down so that both of her breasts are exposed to me. I bite down on one of her hard, pink-as-the-inside-of-a-seashell nipple and she starts to cry my name over and over. I focus on the satin fist her pussy is making around my cock. I lose myself in her cries and race toward the relief I need like I need air.

I already want her again.

I bury my face in her neck, hold her succulent ass with one hand and hold the other flat against the wall beside her head.

She presses her warm, soft lips to my ear and flicks her tongue along the shell of it. “There’s a hurricane swirling inside of me,” she whispers.

“That’s me,” I tell her between small nips at her throat.

“I’m coming apart,” she moans.

My breath hitches. I pull back and look into her limpid, breathtakingly bright eyes. She touches her open mouth to mine and kisses me softly.

“It feels so good, I don’t know what to do.” Her breath comes in short puffs.

“Like I’ve never …” She trails off.

“I know; it feels too good to be true, right?” I stare into her eyes and the naked desire in them, the honesty in her gaze, moves something inside of me.

Yes, I like her.

“Like … I’ll never, ever get enough,” she says in a low, but strong voice.

Her eyes light with a fierceness before her mouth is back on mine. She grips my neck, twines her fingers into my hair and pulls herself up my body.

Her legs tighten around my waist. I let go of her ass and press my other hand to the wall. “I want to make you come,” she groans just as she lifts up and slams back down on my cock.

She squeezes me in rhythmic pulses that shoot pleasure straight to my balls. Like a slave following his master’s command, I start to come in a rush that blindsides me.

My knees buckle and I close my eyes against the suddenly unbearably bright light in the room. She rides me through my orgasm and slips a hand in between her legs. “I can’t come without my clit,” she pants before she starts rubbing between her legs.

“Let me,” I breathe and stand up. I take the condom off and toss it in the trash can next to the door. I spread her thighs and admire the sweet, wet, swollen pussy I just finished fucking. I bend and squat until my face is right where it wants to be.