Page 58 of Playing With Danger

If I hadn’t already fallen down the wrong side of hope with this woman, watching her tremble as she nervously climbed up would’ve sent me over the edge. It wasn’t the apprehension she’d turned into lust. It was the absolute trust.

A better man would’ve put an end to the madness. I, however, scooted her higher, and when I had her cunt where I wanted it, I feasted on the insanity. I took everything she didn’t know she was offering and devoured her pussy like the prick I was. I drank down her excitement. Desperate in my pursuit for her climax. Once again, I was thrust back into my frantic need to drag her under. Make her lose her mind, bend her, own her pleasure because I would never own her heart.

I didn’t deserve her, or her trust, or her body.

But still I took her, until her thighs on either side of my head shook and she mewled her orgasm. One hand left her ass to reach for a condom. My other hand moved to tear open the wrapper and roll the latex down my aching cock. I slid out from under her, got to my knees behind her, gritted my teeth, and took everything.

Every. Fucking. Thing.

I took her scream as she took half my length in one thrust. I took her moan when I pulled out. I took her exhale, her full-body tremble, and her whimper when I gave her the rest of me.

“Brace on the headboard, Sophie.”

I waited for her to curl her fingers over the top of the wooden frame.

“Good, baby.”

Despite the war raging in my chest I set an easy pace. Slowly giving her more. Slowly working her up until she was meeting my drives. Slowly taking her with me—to the place I’d only been with her. Where reality couldn’t creep in. To a place that was free of the garbage that lived in my head.

Mindless.

Just me and her.

This.

A place where I was not alone, lonely, and broken.

A place where I could breathe her in and hope like fuck she didn’t see me for who I really was.

“Valentine,” she groaned.

Her cunt was impossibly tight. I fought my way in and out. Held onto every ounce of control I had. She wasn’t there yet. I needed more.

“Not yet.”

“I’m gonna?—”

“Not yet.”

I slowed my strokes and kept her on the edge with me.

“Honey,” she panted.

“Not yet.”

My hands on her hips moved in opposite directions. One slid up to cup to her tit, using my finger and thumb to roll her nipple, the other down to toy with her clit. Purposefully not giving her enough.

“More.”

I pinched her nipple but my finger on her clit slowed.

“Not yet, baby.”

With my jaw clenched, I drove my hips forward, giving her one hard thrust.

“Oh, God. So close.”

“I know you are. I can feel your pussy clutching?—”

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