Dylan's Witch: 10 (Supernatural Bonds) by Jory Strong Page A

head-to-head against the bliss of maintaining full body contact as tongues and lips battled for supremacy.
    Her scent intoxicated him. It had from that first meeting.
    He forced himself away from her mouth, kissed his way to her ear, needing the taste of her, the caress of her hair against his skin. He gripped strands of silky red, tightened on them.
    Her hands reached his jeans, scratched along the waistband, tormented with a dip beneath, nails against his buttocks. His cock throbbed. His mind ventured into fantasies of cuffing her and rendering her helpless as he drove her as crazy as she’d driven him.
    She moaned when his tongue fucked into her ear. His cock leaked arousal, urging him to rip the nightgown up and enter her.
    Her hands left his ass, traveled along his sides before she worked them between their bodies, unbuttoning his shirt, her fingertips unerringly finding his nipples and sending fire streaking down to his dick.
    It spasmed. His balls went full and tight.
    She was begging for it.
    “Lower,” he said on a groan, his own version of begging.
    Her laugh was soft, husky. A sound of victory that had him returning to her mouth, taking possession. Dominating even as she nearly sent him to his knees when she cupped him through the jeans, stroked.
    His hips jerked. A moan escaped.
    He tried to care about control.
    Failed when she freed him. Capturing his dick, her thumb rubbing, spreading the pre-cum over his cock head.
    Jesus.
    There was probably a good reason to stop. To take this deeper into the house, but the only deeper he cared about was getting inside her.
    It was a damn good thing he already had her against the door. He dragged his fingers through her hair, going from one form of silky to another when he reached shoulders and gown, peeling the straps to the side.
    She offered a moan of approval. A little hum that passed through his skin, expanding in a blaze of anticipation.
    A tug and material slipped, caught on breasts he’d fantasized about seeing, touching, pressing his lips to and claiming with hard sucks.
    Unwilling to leave her mouth, he settled for cupping, fondling, capturing hard nipples between his fingers, and she thrust her breasts against him, demanding more, rougher contact to match the possessive, hot grip and feverish movement of her hand on his cock.
    He gave her what she wanted. Need building with each tug and twist. With each of her moans and the hard strokes to his cock until he couldn’t delay where this was heading.
    He grabbed her wrist, pulled her hand from his dick and levered away from her just far enough for the nightgown to slide downward, no longer an impediment to pleasure. Then he lifted her, her legs going instantly around him, her hand returning to his cock to guide it home.
    A single stroke and he shuddered at being fully sheathed. Jesus, he’d traded one type of insanity for another.
    “Fuck, condom.” But all that gained him was the clamp of her channel and the thrust of his hips, pumping, not trying to escape.
    “I’m safe,” she said, fingers capturing his nipple, rubbing. “I’m okay with this.”
    He’d pull out at the last second, after she climaxed, he told himself, letting go. Slow was not an option, not after denying himself for so long. Slow was not a demand she made on him.
    He embraced the searing ecstasy of fucking her. Thrusting hard and fast, promising himself they’d do long and slow another time.
    His mouth captured hers. His pleasure was magnified at swallowing her moans and soft cries, at feeling her mounting tension as his cock stroked deep inside her.
    Her legs tightened at his waist each time he rammed into her cervix. Her nails dug into his shoulders, the little pain spurring him on, eradicating rational thought.
    She came. Clamping down on his cock in fierce demand and he answered with another thrust, with the jetted release of his semen.
    And fuck, it felt so good he couldn’t even care.
    Right or wrong way to handle things?