Page 74 of Take Me to Church
I drag my dick lower, positioning it before sinking into the heat of her welcoming body with a ragged groan. I bracket her throat with one hand, tipping her head to the side as I pull back and thrust again. “What was that you said?”
Lydia only whimpers in response, her hands still gripping my ass as I set an unforgiving pace. One that has her so wet our bodies make sloppy sounds as they slide together, her hips meeting each thrust I make.
“I think you like asking for what you want from me, don’t you?” I grit my teeth as the moment threatens to overwhelm me. Threatens to take me out before we’ve even really started.
Something tells me I might need to get used to it.
From day one I’ve been at her mercy. She’s been the only thing I can focus on. The only thing I care about.
The only thing that matters.
Lydia’s lids lift, her eyes meeting mine as I rock into her willing body, each stroke more difficult to sustain than the last. I can’t look away. Can’t make myself break the connection we have. I need it. Crave it. Will do anything to keep it. Beg. Borrow.
Kill.
Lydia whimpers, gripping me tighter. “Christian.” Her heels dig into the backs of my thighs as her hips rock, trying to get closer, reminding me she needs more.
But I want her to say it. I want her to know she can ask me for anything.Demandanything.
I catch one of her legs behind the knee, pushing it out to the side as I change the angle of my body to tease her with what she’s aching for. “Tell me what you want, Lydia.”
She whines, writhing under me in an attempt to obtain what she’s seeking without having to actually ask. So I grip her hip, pinning it in place, holding her hooded gaze. “Say it.” I punctuate the demand with a slow thrust, dragging my body against hers as I move.
Lydia lets out a low moan, shuddering as I grind against her clit. “Please.”
“So fucking sweet.” I lean down to nip her lower lip. “But you don’t have to use that word with me, Lydia. Not ever.” I go still, balls deep in the hot, tight well of her cunt. “What do you want? I want to hear it.”
She whimpers, still fighting the hold I have on her hip. After a few fruitless seconds, she glares at me. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared. “I want to come.”
I smile, proud and amused and fucking turned on as hell. “Good girl.”
I release her hip and catch her hand, lacing our fingers together as I press it into the mattress above her head, my hips working in those long, dragging thrusts she loves so much. I barely make it thirty seconds before my balls are pulling tight and the base of my spine is aching with the need to come. Being with Lydia is like nothing else, and it tests my stamina in the best of ways.
With her it’s not just about getting off, seeking a needed release. I don’t want to be released. I want to be tied. Dragged closer. Pulled in and attached. Connected in more than just a physical way.
And that changes everything. In good ways and bad.
Lydia’s legs jerk where they’re wedged against my hips, flexing tight as her breath hitches and her hand grips mine, sending relief flooding through me. She’s close. I just have to make it a little longer.
But I can’t.
I’m fighting a losing battle and a split second later my cock swells as the climax I’ve been trying to delay edges closer. It takes all the focus I have to keep my pace instead of pistoning into her warmth and riding out the wave threatening to drown me.
But then my sweet, soft Lydia growls out one, blessed word.
“Harder.”
It breaks me, snaps my control and resolve, unleashing what I’ve tried desperately to contain.
With a ragged groan I pin her body to mine, chasing the bliss I never expected would be mine as she clings to me, her body locked tight as the clench of her cunt fists around me in the most perfect fucking grip I’ve ever felt.
It’s the same hold she has on the rest of me, and God help anyone who tries to take her from me.
Because I will willingly go to the depths of hell to bring her back.
27
LYDIA
