Page 46 of Her Magnificent Mistake
His palm climbed her chest to rest against the base of her throat. He wasn’t choking her, but it was a clear claim of power, domination.Yes.
Since her hands were held immobile her fingers scrabbled for him, trying to grasp his cock, trying to stroke him, even as she writhed in his hold.
He dropped her wrists to grab himself. Then, with her back still arched against him, his hand still at her throat, he parted her knees, slid into her wet channel, and she moaned in joy.
Yes.
It wasn’t the first time they’d fooked like this, standing upright, him holding her tight against him, but it had been so long. Was it possible he was longer, thicker? Had her memories done him such a disservice? Marcia had to push herself up on her toes to take him, even as he slid out and plunged back in again.
Yes.
After long last, she was where she belonged.
No matter who he was, no matter why she was here, they had this moment together. To cherish—before she reminded herself he could be a murderer.
He slid out of her again, then thrust forward, spearing her on his cock. She found herself rocking in place, trying to meet him, despite the fact he held her immobile. Her hands landed on his hips, trying to hold him in place.
And he growled, “Walk,” in her ear.
She didn’t think of disobeying.
On her toes, his cock spearing her from behind, Marcia took a tiny, tentative step forward, and he mirrored it. The sensation it caused—her thighs rubbing together because of the step, and him stroking from within—nearly sent her to her knees. Only the knowledge that he was holding her up, and that they could do that again, and again, and again, kept her upright.
Another step, another wash of incredible sensation she’d never imagined.
Yes.
Together, they shuffled toward the bed, each step sending her higher and higher. Her fingers dug into his skin, resisting the urge to reach for her own cunny and rub her clitoris, providing the pressure she needed.
“Good lass,” he murmured, his breath fanning the hair of her neck. “Such a sweet, tight little cunny. God, I’ve missed ye.”
Marcia could only moan, near breathless with desire.
When they finally reached the bed, Hawk halted their forward process. “Are ye ready to take me, love? Take all of me?”
“Please,” she whimpered, willing to beg on her hands and knees if it meant?—
He moved swiftly, his hand from her neck to the middle of her back, pressing her down. She caught her weight on her hands, her arse still high in the air, her core still riding his cock. But then he pushed harder, thrusting her against the mattress as he continued to stroke in and out gently.
Marcia didn’t mind; she merely tipped her face to one side so she could breathe, and reached for her crotch, using her fingers to spread her lips as he speared her from behind.
“Now, Marcia?” he rumbled.
She responded by thrusting her arse higher. “Now, love.”
He drove deeply into her, balls deep, wrenching a gasp from her lips which quickly turned into a groan. His thrusts werepowerful and made it clear he’d been leashing his strength up until now.
Each plunge was accompanied by a grunt from him and a gasp or moan from her. Soon her pelvis was grinding against the mattress as he pinned her down, her fingers still stroking the bud of her pleasure. Each moment was a dance between pushing back to meet him as he possessed her and pressing forward against her fingers as she worked herself.
“Mine,” Hawk growled above her. “Mine.”
Yes.
The muscles in Marcia’s thighs began to quiver and she knew she was reaching yet another climax. How had she forgotten how exhilarating, how perfect, her time with Hawk could be? How could she have forgotten how truly powerful the two of them were together?
Had it all been so painful that she’d even forgotten the pleasure?
His fingers traced down her spine. “Love ye, Marcia.”
