Page 13 of Stuffing My Obsession
For a second, there’s silence. His eyes darken, his jaw tightens, and the air between us turns thick, electric.
“Fuck,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to mine. His breath is ragged, like he’s fighting a war inside himself. “You should’ve told me sooner.”
“I didn’t want you to stop,” I whisper, shame and need tangling in my chest. “I still don’t.”
He growls low in his throat, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek, rough thumb brushing over my swollen lips. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know what it’ll mean if I take you, Paris. I won’t be gentle. I don’t know how to be.”
My heart races, but I don’t look away. “I want it to be you.”
His whole body shudders against mine, a sound torn from his chest that’s half growl, half broken prayer. He kisses me again, deep and desperate, like he’s seconds from losing the battle. His hips grind into me once more, and I feel the sheer size of him through his jeans, the promise of what he’s holding back. I whimper into his mouth, clutching at him, wanting, needing.
“You don’t know what you’re asking me for,” he says. “I won’t be able to stop. I’ll ruin you.”
“Then ruin me.”
The words are out before I can take them back, breathless, desperate. His eyes snap to mine, dark and burning, and I see the exact second his control snaps.
His mouth crashes against mine again, deep and demanding, stealing my breath. His weight pins me to the mattress, every hard inch of him pressing into me, reminding me what’s coming. I should be scared. I should hesitate. But all I feel is heat, pulsing through my veins, winding tighter with every stroke of his tongue, every rough drag of his hands.
He grips my wrists suddenly, pinning them above my head with one large hand. The sheer strength of him makes me tremble, but not with fear. My stomach flips with excitement, my body arching into his like I’ve been waiting for this all my life.
“You’re mine,” he growls against my mouth, and the words vibrate through me, low and dangerous.
“Yes,” I breathe, shocked at how easily the word falls from my lips. Shocked at how much I mean it.
He releases my wrists only to drag his hands down my arms, over my ribs, slipping under my shirt. The rough pads of his fingers tease the sensitive underside of my breasts before he cups them, squeezing, his thumbs brushing my nipples until they harden under his touch.
I moan into his mouth, heat pooling between my thighs.
“Beautiful,” he rasps, tugging the shirt up and over my head, baring me to him. His gaze rakes over me, dark and possessive, making me squirm under the intensity. “So fucking perfect.”
When his mouth closes over one of my nipples, I gasp, my back arching off the bed. He sucks, then nips lightly, and the jolt shoots straight to the ache between my legs. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
He drags his mouth lower, leaving a trail of kisses down my stomach, pausing right above the place I want him the most. His eyes flick up to mine, a silent question, a chance to back out.
I nod quickly, breathless. “Please.”
That’s all it takes. He slides a hand up my thigh and between my legs, fingers sliding through my wetness. I jerk, a cry tearing from my throat at the contact.
“So wet,” he mutters, almost in awe. “All for me.”
I can’t answer. I can only writhe as his finger circles my clit, slow, controlled, driving me insane. He teases me until I’m panting, begging, then slides one thick finger inside me. I gasp, gripping his arm, the stretch unfamiliar but good. So good.
He adds another, working me open, his gaze locked on my face as he curls them just right, hitting a spot that makes me seestars. My hips buck against his hand, shameless, chasing the pleasure that’s building fast.
“Look at you,” he growls, thrusting his fingers deeper. “Taking me so well. Gonna make you come again before I’m even inside you.”
The words alone push me over the edge. My body tightens, the coil snapping as the orgasm crashes over me. I cry out his name, legs trembling, back arching as waves of pleasure roll through me.
He doesn’t stop kissing me, doesn’t stop murmuring low praises until I finally collapse against the sheets, boneless and shaking.
Before I can catch my breath, he’s shedding his clothes, muscles rippling in the dim light. My eyes widen at the sight of him, at the size of him, thick and hard, and nerves flutter in my stomach.
He sees it instantly. Crawling back over me, he cradles my face, his voice rough but steady. “I’ll be gentle. As much as I can.”
I nod, my heart pounding loud in my ears. “I trust you.”
The words hang between us, heavy and real. His jaw flexes, like the weight of them hits him hard.
