him.
“Elle, I can’t,” he groaned out his weakness.
“Then don’t.” She pushed back against him, engulfing him inside her and making the rest of the world disappear in one fluid undulation. “Just fuck me, Dom.”
Her words broke something inside him, and he pounded into her. Control became a hazy memory as he let go and fucked her like he’d wanted to do from the first moment he’d seen her at Dylan’s—hard, fast, thorough, and with the determined desperation of a man who’d been given a limited-time pass to heaven. In and out, he plunged into her, his hands gripping the forgiving flesh of her hips as she milked his dick with her slick walls, giving as good as she got and answering every retreat of his body with an attack of her own. He wasn’t the only one lost to the mind-obliterating desire.
Leaning forward so his body partially covered hers, the new angle let him go deep, giving her every inch of him as he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her hard back to him. She cried out her pleasure, calling out his name, and she clenched his cock as her orgasm ripped through her.
It was more than he could take. One, two, three more strokes, and his balls pulled up tight to his body as his own climax roared to the forefront, making him blind to everything but the exquisite release of coming inside Elle. His entire body shaking, he laid his forehead on the damp expanse of her back. She smelled of sweat, sex, and all the unobtainable things in the world that he’d never wanted until now. Women. Wealth. Success. Everything but Elle. It had all come easily to him, and he’d been satisfied, letting his quest for restoring the monarchy to Elskov feed his unending hunger for challenge. But this woman? He inhaled her unique scent. She had him thinking that he could use more challenge in his life. Dangerous thoughts, indeed.
“Unless your goal is to smush me into this love seat, you’d better let me up.” She giggled.
He snapped back into a standing position and helped her up. “Sorry about that.”
She grabbed her T-shirt and slipped it over her head, leaving her gorgeous tits swinging free underneath, and grinned at him. “You’re a dangerous man.”
“What makes you say that?” He snagged his jeans and pulled them up, hating the thick denim material that would separate him from her smooth skin.
She tugged on her pants, letting out a hard breath that sent the reddish hair that had flopped in front of her eyes back into place. “Because I just came so hard that I’d agree to eat peanut butter and jelly for a week, and I hate peanut butter.”
“What kind of person hates peanut butter?” In the process of pulling on his sweater, his words came out muffled.
She giggled again, and her eyelids drooped lower, a satisfied smile curling her full lips. “The totally-jellified-right-now kind.”
He scooped her up, her body light in his arms. “Come on, let’s go upstairs and I’ll explain the delicacy that is peanut butter.”
“I can walk, you know,” she said as she snuggled against him, her palm covering his still fast-beating heart.
“But this way I can guarantee you end up exactly where I want.”
“And where’s that?” she asked, her eyes fluttering shut.
“My bed.” At least for the next forty-eight hours. After that he’d walk away like the reporter in Roman Holiday . The thought was a hard kick to his kidneys.
Her body tensed, and he waited for her objection, but none came. Instead, she relaxed by degrees against him as he walked out of the movie room and up the stairs to his room. By the time they’d reached his door, her eyes had fluttered shut, her soft, sleepy breaths tickled his neck, and she felt so right in his arms he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let go.
Chapter Ten
Elle stretched out on the bed and rolled to her side, snuggling up with Dom’s pillow. He’d gotten up half an hour ago when the sun was low in the east and she couldbarely open her eyes,
C. C. Hunter
Viola Rivard
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Christie Ridgway
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James Becker
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