animalistic sound, as she climbed over him,
his palms engulfing them, torturing the small mounds, teasing the nipples into hardened
little points that hurt.
She lowered herself as he gently sank his teeth around the base of one nipple, the
sensations multiplying by the addition of his teeth as his tongue laved and swiped,
suckled and suctioned. She floated in only feeling, only lust, only him.
He gave wild, primal little lust bites at her neck, her ear, and gripped her hips
as he came back up, eyes fixated on her face. “Tell me you want me inside you, Monica.”
It came out in a desperate rush. “I want you inside me.”
His lips pressed down on hers with devastating gentleness as he gripped her by the
waist, then he lowered her, slowly, as lost in it as she was, as desperate to be completely
buried in her as she was to be completely penetrated. He held her down, gently gripping
her hips.
“Tilt your hips, and tell me how it feels,” he rasped, as inch by inch, his hot, hard
length advanced inside her. “Yeah,” he breathed, and she tilted her hips until she
felt her body contract around him, her sex swallowing him entirely.
“Daniel,” she gasped, and a sound a little like pain squeaked out of her when they
were fully joined, and he eased back.
“Am I too thick? Too big?” he gruffly asked, but she quickly begged, “Please, don’t
leave me empty,” only to realize he had intended to lift her and pull her back down.
The sound tearing off her this time was all pleasure. He closed his eyes and set his
forehead on hers for a moment, her heart thundering, their bodies melded, throbbing
in unison, and nothing had ever felt like this. She gripped his jaw and set her lips
on his, kissing him.
He groaned as though relieved to be surrounded by her, as though he’d been desperate
for her flesh to massage him, hold him, caress him. He pulsed within her. Firm and
warm.
When her hands clutched his shoulders and urged him, he inhaled through his teeth,
flung his head back, and started to move with her. Her body clenched around his as
she bounced slowly up and down. Her hips tilted vigorously, meeting his thrusts, progressively
faster, seemingly deeper. He bit down on her shoulder, and pleasure raged through
her like a thunderstorm. The sensations rose like a ride, taking her higher, higher.
“Daniel,” she cried, frightened, clutching him.
He was lost to the storm, too, biting into her neck now, breathing hard, “Oh, Christ …
Monica … I can’t … I can’t wait…”
She exploded with a soft cry, nerves twisting, body clenching and unclenching, her
systems setting loose as he plunged into her with a bark of pleasure as her pussy
rippled and grasped at his cock, pulling him, massaging him, stroking him to orgasm
with her.
He became heavy, impossibly heavy, deliciously heavy, when she sagged. He still dragged
himself inside her, groaning, still hard, and she responded with a soft moan and bit
into his shoulder like he had, loving how it had felt. He turned his head and when
he kissed her, she thought he was going to swallow her tongue, his passion still without
boundaries … stirring her again.…
Chapter Four
They arrived at his apartment building, and Monica was still breathless in his arms,
heavy-lidded, her mouth damp, her cheeks pink with exertion … so damned sensual and
beautiful. Daniel didn’t want to let her catch her breath and start talking shit to
him about Roland; he didn’t want to stop and think about anything except how right
this was. She was afraid of love, and he was pushing her to admit it. It could backfire.
But God, he’d had enough of this.
He’d never wanted anyone so much in his life.
When the car stopped, he tucked the tiny wad of fabric of her panties into his pocket
and helped her straighten out her gray pencil skirt, and as she stepped out of the
car, he scooped her up.
“I can walk,”
his palms engulfing them, torturing the small mounds, teasing the nipples into hardened
little points that hurt.
She lowered herself as he gently sank his teeth around the base of one nipple, the
sensations multiplying by the addition of his teeth as his tongue laved and swiped,
suckled and suctioned. She floated in only feeling, only lust, only him.
He gave wild, primal little lust bites at her neck, her ear, and gripped her hips
as he came back up, eyes fixated on her face. “Tell me you want me inside you, Monica.”
It came out in a desperate rush. “I want you inside me.”
His lips pressed down on hers with devastating gentleness as he gripped her by the
waist, then he lowered her, slowly, as lost in it as she was, as desperate to be completely
buried in her as she was to be completely penetrated. He held her down, gently gripping
her hips.
“Tilt your hips, and tell me how it feels,” he rasped, as inch by inch, his hot, hard
length advanced inside her. “Yeah,” he breathed, and she tilted her hips until she
felt her body contract around him, her sex swallowing him entirely.
“Daniel,” she gasped, and a sound a little like pain squeaked out of her when they
were fully joined, and he eased back.
“Am I too thick? Too big?” he gruffly asked, but she quickly begged, “Please, don’t
leave me empty,” only to realize he had intended to lift her and pull her back down.
The sound tearing off her this time was all pleasure. He closed his eyes and set his
forehead on hers for a moment, her heart thundering, their bodies melded, throbbing
in unison, and nothing had ever felt like this. She gripped his jaw and set her lips
on his, kissing him.
He groaned as though relieved to be surrounded by her, as though he’d been desperate
for her flesh to massage him, hold him, caress him. He pulsed within her. Firm and
warm.
When her hands clutched his shoulders and urged him, he inhaled through his teeth,
flung his head back, and started to move with her. Her body clenched around his as
she bounced slowly up and down. Her hips tilted vigorously, meeting his thrusts, progressively
faster, seemingly deeper. He bit down on her shoulder, and pleasure raged through
her like a thunderstorm. The sensations rose like a ride, taking her higher, higher.
“Daniel,” she cried, frightened, clutching him.
He was lost to the storm, too, biting into her neck now, breathing hard, “Oh, Christ …
Monica … I can’t … I can’t wait…”
She exploded with a soft cry, nerves twisting, body clenching and unclenching, her
systems setting loose as he plunged into her with a bark of pleasure as her pussy
rippled and grasped at his cock, pulling him, massaging him, stroking him to orgasm
with her.
He became heavy, impossibly heavy, deliciously heavy, when she sagged. He still dragged
himself inside her, groaning, still hard, and she responded with a soft moan and bit
into his shoulder like he had, loving how it had felt. He turned his head and when
he kissed her, she thought he was going to swallow her tongue, his passion still without
boundaries … stirring her again.…
Chapter Four
They arrived at his apartment building, and Monica was still breathless in his arms,
heavy-lidded, her mouth damp, her cheeks pink with exertion … so damned sensual and
beautiful. Daniel didn’t want to let her catch her breath and start talking shit to
him about Roland; he didn’t want to stop and think about anything except how right
this was. She was afraid of love, and he was pushing her to admit it. It could backfire.
But God, he’d had enough of this.
He’d never wanted anyone so much in his life.
When the car stopped, he tucked the tiny wad of fabric of her panties into his pocket
and helped her straighten out her gray pencil skirt, and as she stepped out of the
car, he scooped her up.
“I can walk,”
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