Page 186 of House of Cards

Which is why I should get up, let her sleep, and definitely not be pull the covers away from her body. I might even have been able to convince myself that I was stronger than this…but then I saw all she was sleeping in was a t-shirt.

Weak. Pathetic.

So fucking needy that my cock’s already stiffening at the glimpse of her bare thigh.

I skate my fingers over her skin, inching the cover even lower.

She makes a grumpy sound, eyelids flickering as she rolls onto her other side and nuzzles deeper into her pillow…baring her plump ass in all its naked glory.

Christ, I couldn’t stop now, even if I wanted to.

I drag her body against mine, burrowing my nose into her hair and inhaling her scent in a heady rush as I mold myself against her. She murmurs something I can’t make out, sighs, and goes limp in my arms.

Zoey needs sleep.

But I need Zoey.

My hand glides over her ass, slips between her legs, brushing her pussy. My cock’s already hard, already twitching like it’s going to thrust into her, whether or not I want it to.

I wrap my fingers around my shaft, close to the crown, and gently nudge and slide the tip of my cock against her pussy.

Within minutes, I’m coated with her warm, slippery arousal.

I push into her, allowing myself barely a quarter inch inside her wet pussy before pulling out. Again. Again.

Until I’m dizzy with the need to fill her.

But I hold back, punishing myself for everything I’ve put her through.

How the hell my soft panting doesn’t wake her, I don’t know. My entire body is tensed up as I fight the urge to ram my cock balls deep inside her.

When I can’t take it anymore, when my body is shuddering and my balls aching, intense pressure building at the base of my spine as I get closer and closer to coming at just the thought of what it will feel like filling her, I grab her hips and force my cock into her.

It’s a violent, brutal thrust.

She wakes with a muffled yell of confusion and pain, bucking away from my cock as she whips her head back to stare at me with wide eyes.

“What the—” she begins hoarsely, but her words dissolve into a guttural moan as I grab her hips and shove into her again.

I stare at her trembling mouth as I grind my hips against her, trying to find another inch of room for my cock inside her wet, clenching pussy.

“Did you really think I was done with your pretty little cunt?” I brush my lips against her shoulder, my eyes locked with hers.

“I was sleeping,” she mutters, pushing her ass out, forcing me to fuck her at a different angle. “But please, don’t let that stop you.”

She gets a hard slap on her ass for her tone of voice, but that just makes her gasp and buck harder into me.

“Fuck!” she whimpers, fisting her hands in the sheets in front of her, pushing back into my thrusts.

Christ, she feels so fucking good. Using her like this—so roughly, so mercilessly—feels like a sin. Every slap of my hips against hers drives a tremor of sensation through my pelvis and into the base of my spine.

I keep one hand on her hip, bruising her hips. The other I shove under her head so I can force her head up off the pillow.

So I can kiss her as brutally as I’m fucking her.

And, Christ, her mouth responds as desperately as her pussy. She moans against my lips, reaching back to leave nail marks on my ass as she tries to pull me deeper into her wet cunt.

Our bodies slap together, frantic, lurid. Both of us chasing a climax, neither caring if we’re the first to get there or not.

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