Page 112 of Break Me
Closing my eyes, I tried to keep control of my needs, but was losing the battle. As soon as I hit the tight ring of muscle, I lost it, driving the last few inches inside. The heat was blistering, the tightness catching my breath.
And the rush of adrenaline was almost crippling. I’d never felt such an intense surge of electricity while being with a woman.
There were so many firsts with Halle I could no longer count.
The first woman to openly hate me.
The first woman to openly thwart my commands.
The first woman to act as if she couldn’t care less about my money.
And the very first woman to make me feel as if I could grasp the entire world and make it my own.
With my body still shaking, I pulled out, driving into her tight asshole again. Only this time, much more slowly. I wanted to enjoy the moment before getting my rocks off. I repeated the move and she bucked backward, her back heaving from her exerted gasps.
Unable to resist, I slipped my hand underneath, cupping her voluptuous breast. Which fit perfectly in my hand.
“You’re so bad,” she whispered.
“A ty ochen’ plokhaya, no voskhititel’naya zhenshchina.”
“No fair. What did you say to me?”
Leaning over, I nuzzled against her ear, biting her earlobe before whispering the answer. “I said ‘and you’re a very bad yet delicious woman.’”
“Mmm… Something you should remember.” Her eyelids were half closed, her mouth twisted in such a way I wanted nothing more than to suck on her swollen lips. That would happen when I was finished.
Pulling back, I pinched her nipple until she cried out while I inhaled her sweet scent. At that moment, I felt as if I was the luckiest man alive.
I twisted her diamond hard peak once again, my thrust rougher than the one before. Every sound she made fueled a huge fire until the air around us was suffocating. I finally couldn’t handle being patient any longer, driving into her with brutal, deep strokes.
The rush of vibrations tearing through me remained high as I fucked her. I was rocking her so forcefully I gripped her hip with the fingers of one hand to keep from pushing her down. I wrapped the others around her long hair, jerking back her head.
There was no stopping me, my needs outweighing everything else. Every moan and whimper continued to fuel me, every touch of her heated skin searing my skin. Maybe my actions were sadistic, but I was unable to control myself.
The harder I pushed, the more she responded, pushing back against me until we were rocking the bed. When the headboard slammed into the wall, we both laughed. We were two vastly different people, yet cut from the same cloth.
The same desires.
The same needs and wants.
The same virulent yearning to keep our families safe.
Suddenly, I couldn’t take it any longer, throwing my head back and biting back every sound as my balls filled with cum. As I finally erupted deep inside, I heard her whispered sound of satisfaction.
The only word that continued to spiral through my mind was powerful.
Mine.
There couldn’t be anything sexier than a woman in a man’s shirt. While the one I’d been wearing was way too large for her, the way she wore it with the sleeves rolled up and only three buttons fastened kept my eyes drifting from her face as she talked.
She was sitting with her folded legs to the side, clutching a pillow with one hand, her drink with the other.
Something else I’d never enjoyed before. Pillow talk. I hadn’t even completely understood the term, thinking of it as needless conversation. Once I’d been finished with whatever round of passion, I’d left. Not once had the woman been required to leave simply because I’d never brought anyone into my home. Either this one or my house.
Given the faraway look in her eyes, I could tell she had something on her mind. I studied her, enjoying doing nothing more than leaning back against the pillows while sippingmy drink. I wanted her comfortable. I also wanted her to understand she wasn’t leaving.
I’d meant what I’d told her. I’d make a call in the morning to my real estate agent. I’d purchase whatever she needed. Clothes. Toys. It didn’t matter. Hell, she could change the furniture in the condo if she wanted before the house was ready. I couldn’t care less. This had never felt like my home.
