Breaking Read Free

father, by refusing to submit
to social expectations, by making his body do what he’d done. Since he’d gotten
together with Lori, his world had been different. He had been different.
    But not
different enough.
    He pulled out
of her completely. The cool air on his wet erection—slick from her arousal—made
him shudder.
    Lori’s face was
confused. “I thought we were going again.”
    “We are.” He
lowered himself farther down the bed and lifted her legs by the ankles. Kissed
one of her calves and then straightened her legs until her ankles rested on his
shoulders.
    He gave her a
questioning look, and she answered him silently, nodding her head.
    So he lined
himself up at her entrance again and then carefully eased himself inside. As he
entered her, he leaned forward, until her knees were up against her shoulders,
and her body was folded in half.
    He released a
low moan and heard Lori mirror the sound. He was penetrating her even more
deeply this way—buried inside her fully, tightly. It was almost too much, and
he tensed his whole body to hold onto his restraint.
    When he could,
he opened his eyes. Lori’s face was twisted, and she was biting her lower lip,
but he couldn’t tell if it was from pain or pleasure. “Okay?” he asked thickly.
    “Yeah,” she
whispered, shifting restlessly beneath him. “Good, Ander. So good.”
    She was taking
everything he could give her, and Ander felt a wave of power surge through him
at the utterly genuine way she had said the words. “Yeah?”
    “Oh, yeah,” she
breathed, trying to rock her hips against him. “You’re so good, Ander. Now get
going.”
    He turned his
head and nipped at the side her leg. “Say please.” He eased back, generating
tight, torturous friction.
    “Arrogant
bastard.” She tried to scowl, but she was also rocking up into him, which was
just about all she could do in her helpless position.
    He was shaking
with the effort to rein himself in, but he managed not to push back into her.
    When he failed
to thrust, Lori whimpered. Tried to pump her hips higher, but couldn’t get him
any deeper inside her. Relented. “Fine. Please, oh you great god of all that is
sexy, please, please, please fuck me now.”
    Ander choked on
a burst of laughter, but since she’d said please, he braced himself with hands
splayed out on the mattress. Pushed in to fill her again, levering his hips up
on the in-stroke.
    Lori arched and
moaned deeply, her arms flying out, hands fumbling for something to hold onto.
“Again,” she gasped.
    He pulled back.
Stroked in. Levered up.
    “God, Ander,”
she cried, tendrils of hair sticking to her damp face. “More. More.”
    Ander thrust
again, trying to be careful. He was deep, and he didn’t want to hurt her.
    He loved how her
entire body rocked with his motion—she was moving completely at his will—and
the press of her calves on his shoulders gave him just enough resistance to
push against.
    Sweat was
pooling in the hollow of Lori’s neck now. He could see it glistening even in
the very faint light. “Harder,” she begged, squeezing her eyes shut. “Ander,
please, I need it harder. And faster.”
    He let out a rough
sound of pleasure or pride and allowed himself to push into her hard.
    The potency was
overwhelming when he heard Lori gasp, “Yeah. Like that. Hard. Fast.”
    He intensified
his thrusting, his arms shaking visibly as he supported his body above her.
    Lori’s moans transformed
into cries of pleasure as they moved, and every exclamation made him feel even
more powerful, even more needed, even less broken.
    He wanted to bring
her to orgasm again. And then again. Wanted to please her as much as he could.
But his thighs burned, and his arms trembled, and he wasn’t sure how long he
could leash his own release. “Can you come?”
    “Yeah. Yeah.
Coming. More, Ander.”
    He loved
hearing her breathless words. Loved hearing how much she needed him, how much
he was pleasing her. Demanded, “More