was what she craved. Him on top of her, deep inside her,him having absolute power. She couldn’t even draw a breath. She was light-headed from exhilaration and anticipation.
He withdrew and thrust forward again, jolting her body with the force of his reentry.
His gaze seared into hers, so intense that she shivered. His voice was guttural and so damn sexy as he rasped out his next words.
“Hell no, I’m not stopping. Not when I’ve waited this long to have you.”
This long to have you . God, but that nearly made her come on the spot. The idea that this man, a guy so far out of her league, had spent any time lusting over her was insane. Never had she imagined that he could possibly reciprocate her fixation.
She was reaching. Fixation was a strong word to ascribe to him. She had no idea what his feelings or fixation was with her, only that she’d spent a long time fantasizing about just being right here. Underneath him, pinned beneath his body, his cock buried so deep that she didn’t even know how she’d managed to accommodate him.
She wouldn’t say he was freakishly endowed. Certainly not mammoth, but he was definitely larger than any of her previous lovers, and holy crap but Gabe knew exactly what to do with what he had.
He released his hold on her hands, and when she would have moved them, he gave her a look—fierce—and pushed them back down again before once more releasing her. It was a command that didn’t need to be voiced, and she complied, leaving her hands where he’d placed them, her gaze riveted to him as she waited breathlessly for what he’d do next.
He reached down, grasped her legs and pushed them upward to wrap around his waist—and again that look . That shivery, sexy look he sent her that told her to leave her legs just as he’d putthem. Then his hands slid down, underneath her ass, and he began to push into her, hard, forceful, a steady rhythm that sent waves of pleasure singing through her body.
It was instinctive to reach for him. She needed something to anchor her in the storm that was his possession of her. But his eyes snapped to her again, and his jaw tightened. She let her hands fall back to where they’d been.
“I’ll tie them next time,” he said. “Don’t push me, Mia. I call the shots. I own you. You’re mine. You don’t fucking move those hands until I tell you. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her body so taut, so very close to the edge that it was all she could do to even breathe.
Her pulse accelerated, nearly exploding, tripping erratically at the sexy, badass look on his face. His gaze was full of promise. Of all the things he’d do to her. All the things he would make her do. And God help her but she couldn’t wait .
He pounded into her again, shaking her body with the force of his reentry. She closed her eyes, clamping her teeth together to call back the cry that threatened to burst free.
“Eyes,” he snapped. “On me, Mia. Always on me. You don’t come with your eyes closed. I want to see everything you have when I’m inside you. You don’t ever shut me out.”
Her eyes flew open, finding him instantly, her breath exploding in a violent rush.
He withdrew and then surged forward again, his hands tightening on her ass. She’d wear his fingerprints for sure. He held her, spread her even wider as he hammered into her. She couldn’t last. Wouldn’t last. It was too overwhelming. It was too… everything .
“Say my name, Mia. Who owns you? Who do you belong to?”
“You,” she gasped. “Gabe. You. Only you.”
Satisfaction blazed in his eyes. His expression was fierce and possessive, strain evident in his jaw.
“That’s right, baby. Mine. You say my name when you come.”
He slipped a hand between them, finding her clit and stroking as he continued to thrust into her.
“Come,” he demanded. “One more. Give it to me, Mia. I want to feel you go all wild around my cock. Soft and so silky. So very tight. It’s fucking
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
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