Page 38 of Resist

Coulton placed his hand on top of the one she rested against his pec. “I love your hands on me. Can’t wait to feel these fingers wrapped around my cock.”

Of her three previous lovers, none of them had been dirty-talkers in bed, their sex language limited to grunts, curses, and the occasional call out to a deity.

The pictures Coulton drew in her mind were as sexy as the way he was cupping her breasts, his forefingers and thumbs rolling her tight nipples.

He had a way of engaging all the senses, something she’d never experienced. He was a visual masterpiece, and she didn’t know what cologne he wore, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was made of pure pheromones. His breath was hot against her neck, his chest felt like velvet steel, and his dirty talk was a fucking symphony. When he kissed her, she tasted the slight tang of the beer he’d drunk at the tavern. It was barely there, but when his tongue stroked hers, Ainsley could swear she was getting drunk.

“Don’t stop,” she complained, when Coulton disengaged.

He grinned as she tried to pull him back to her. “Two seconds,” he said, quickly dropping his jeans and boxer briefs. He must have kicked off his shoes when they entered the condo because, just as he promised, in mere seconds he was completely naked.

And she was awestruck.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, as her gaze slid down to his cock and stuck there. Coulton was oversized…everywhere.

“You know what I want,” Coulton said, reminding her of the comment about her hand on his cock. “Touch me,” he urged.

Ainsley reached out, offering him a teasing brush of her fingertips, barely stroking the head of his thick cock. Her pussy clenched at the thought of him stuffing all of that inside her. She was going to feel this tomorrow. Maybe even into next week.

“Reallytouch me, wildcat,” he demanded, his voice darker, all semblance of gentleness gone. She liked that. She wasn’t the type of girl who wanted soft or slow missionary with a bunch of sloppy kisses.

She wanted exactly what Coulton offered. Dirty, hard sex with a demanding alpha, who knew exactly how to get her off and didn’t need her to draw a diagram of how to find her clit and G-spot.

THIS was why Ainsley had come tonight. She’d lived a lifetime of shitty days, dealing with assholes, while working a job she didn’t want but couldn’t leave.

She’d earned tonight, goddammit.

Coulton hissed when she gave him exactly what he asked for, gripping his cock with both hands, squeezing the hard flesh as she stroked him.

His fingers closed around a handful of her hair, tugging on it until it stung, until her head was pulled back, her face lifted toward his.

“Harder,” he said through gritted teeth, before he pressed his lips to hers.

This was no kiss. This was primal possession, feral control, an outright claiming. While he destroyed her lips, Ainsley tightened her grip, drawing her hands up and down his dick with so much force, she was scared she was hurting him.

Until Coulton growled. “Good girl,” he praised.

Sweet fucking hell.

Ainsley jerked Coulton harder still, her head flying back against the glass when he lifted her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth. Her grip slackened in the face of his outright assault on her breasts. Her back arched as she tried to give him better access—to suck, bite, lick—because yes, fucking please.

Her breasts were a huge erogenous zone for her, one her past lovers failed to recognize.

“God!” she cried out.

Coulton released her nipple with a pop, his eyes black with desire, pupils blown. “My name, wildcat. Only say my name.”

Ainsley had never been a fan of nicknames, because the ones tagged to her were always insulting and meant to wound. Painsley. Cunt. Bitch.

Wildcat, however, she could get behind.

“Fuck, yes,” she cried, when he increased the suction on her nipples, stars exploding behind her closed eyelids. Ainsley had been wet since the moment Coulton invited her back to his place, but right now, she was literally dripping, her arousal sliding down her inner thighs.

“My name,” he demanded. “Open your eyes and look at me when you say it.”

Resistance was futile. She blinked several times, fighting to clear her vision. “Coulton,” she said on a gasp, when he bit one of her nipples as he pinched the other. The sharp sting of pain shimmered down her spine, her pussy pulsating with need.

He continued to abuse her breasts in the best possible way, until she was whimpering, hungry to be fucked.

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