I cried out when he pushed two fingers inside me, my feet flexing, lifting me onto my toes. My knees weakened, my legs quivering with the strain. The air in the elevator felt thick and steamy, heavy with the need that pumped off him in waves.
“Ah, Christ.” He groaned when my sex tightened around him, his h*ps rolling against me to grind his erection into my bu**ocks. “I’m going to bruise this sweet cunt, Eva. I can’t stop it.”
His arm banded around my waist and lifted me, pulling me back so that my arms were straight and I was bent over. He kneed my legs apart, his fingers sliding wetly from my cleft. I felt his hand graze my hip, and then he was dragging the wide crest of his penis through the seam of my bu**ocks and notching it between the lips of my sex.
I held my breath, squirming against that plush pressure. I’d wanted him all day, craving the feel of his big c**k inside me, needing him to make me come.
“Wait,” he groaned, reaching for both my waist and my shoulder, his fingers flexing impatiently. “Let me—”
My sex clenched, tightening around the thick head.
Gideon cursed and thrust, one hard stroke that shoved him deep. I cried out in pleasured pain, arching away from the rigid fullness, feeling the burn of stretching inner muscles and tender tissues.
“Yes,” he hissed, yanking me back into him until the lips of my sex hugged the thick root of his penis. His h*ps circled, his balls lying heavily against my engorged clitoris. “Fucking tight . . .”
I moaned and tried to hold on to the handrail; my body rocked as he began to f**k. The sensation was devastating, being filled so completely, then emptied abruptly. My knees gave out, my core spasming in delight as he reamed me hard and thoroughly. All the emotion he’d pent up inside him was hammered into me, the relentless drives of his c**k massaging every sensitive nerve.
I was coming before I knew the orgasm was on me, gasping his name as pleasure racked my body in violent trembles.
My head dropped between my arms, my muscles weak and useless. Gideon held me up with his hands, with his erection. Using my body. Taking it. Grunting primitively every time he hit the end of me.
“So deep,” he growled. “So good.”
In the periphery, I caught movement, my dazed eyes focusing on our reflection. With a low, pained cry I started coming again, if I’d ever stopped. Gideon was the most searingly erotic thing I’d ever seen—his biceps thick and hard as he supported my weight, his thighs straining with exertion, his ass flexing as he pistoned, his abs rippling with power as he rolled his h*ps with every stroke.
He’d been built to f**k, but he had mastered the skill, using every inch of his amazing body to enslave a woman to pleasure. It was innate to him, instinctive. Even drunk and near feral with anguish, his rhythm was tight and precise, his focus absolute.
Every thrust took him deep inside me, hitting the sweetest spots again and again, driving the ecstasy into me until I couldn’t resist the onslaught. Another cl**ax churned through me like a tidal wave.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Milk my dick, angel. God . . . You’re making me come.”
I felt his c**k thickening, lengthening. Tingles raced across my skin; my lungs heaved for air.
Gideon threw back his head and roared like an animal, spurting hotly. Gripping my hips, he pumped me onto his ejaculating cock, coming hard and forever, filling me until se**n slicked my sex and inner thighs.
He slowed the thrust of his hips, gasping, bending over to press his cheek to my shoulder.
I started sinking to my knees. “Gideon . . .”
He pulled me up. “I’m not done,” he said roughly, still thick and stiff inside me.
Then he started again.
—
I woke to the feel of his hair brushing over my shoulder and the press of warm, firm lips. Exhausted, I tried to roll away, but an arm around my waist pulled me back.
“Eva,” he rasped. His hand cupped my breast, clever fingers rolling my nipple.
It was dark and we were in bed, although I barely remembered him carrying me there. He’d undressed me, washed me with a damp cloth, and rained kisses over my face and wrists. They were bandaged now, slicked with ointment and wrapped with care.
It had turned me on to feel his tender caresses over the chafing, the mix of pleasure and pain. He’d noticed.
With eyes hot with lust, he’d spread my legs and eaten me with an insistent demand that robbed me of the ability to think or move. He’d licked and sucked my cleft endlessly, until I lost count of how many times he made me come around his wicked tongue.
“Gideon . . .” Turning my head, I looked at him over my shoulder. He was propped on one arm, his eyes glittering in the faint light of the moon. “Did you stay with me?”
Maybe it was reckless to hope he’d stayed with me while I slept, but sharing a bed with him was something I loved. And craved.
He nodded. “I couldn’t leave you.”
“I’m glad.”
He rolled me over and into him, taking my mouth, kissing me softly. The coaxing licks of his tongue stirred me again, made me moan.
“I can’t stop touching you,” he breathed, gripping my nape to hold me still as he deepened the kiss, his teeth tugging gently on my lower lip. “When I touch you, I don’t think about anything else.”
Tenderness blended with the love. “Can I touch you, too?”
Closing his eyes, he begged. “Please.”
I surged into him, my hands sliding into his hair to hold him as he held me. I brushed my tongue against his, our mouths hot and wet. Our legs tangled, my body arching to press against the hardness of his.