until the job was done. There would be no easy escape from this bed, she knew it even before he hooked his fingers inside of her, coaxing her into an orgasm that had her bowing off the bed, screaming into the hot, hungry mouth still devouring her own.
Her body clenched down, liquid heat gushing out to dampen her thighs as pleasure rocketed through her core and his tongue continued to fuck her mouth, building her need again even as her pussy still throbbed and clutched at his thick fingers.
By the time he grabbed her behind the knees, forcing her legs up and out—until her knees were in her armpits and she was bared to him, from her ass to her dripping sex—she was beyond words, beyond identity, beyond awareness of anything but the blunt head of his engorged cock hot at her entrance.
Fear flashed through her for a moment—she was on the pill, but she’d never had sex without a condom before—but then he was gliding into her, shoving through her swollen flesh, stretching her so wide she wasn’t sure she’d ever be the same again.
She moaned, pain and pleasure warring within her as he claimed her in one long, slow stroke. He was enormous and so thick her body fought to eject him, to banish the burning sensation he caused between her legs. But he kept coming. And coming and coming, until she swore she could feel him in her belly, in her lungs. He was everywhere, his hot thickness filling her up until there was no room for anything but him.
She tried to breathe deeper, to center herself, to hold on to that sacred, hidden kernel of her soul no man had ever touched, but she couldn’t find it.
There was only him, his heat, his rain and campfire smell, and his need, spearing her in two, insisting she take everything he had to give.
“Look at me,” he said, holding still inside her, his voice demanding she obey. “Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes to his, a ragged sob escaping from her strained throat. At this angle, the light from the bathroom hit his face and she was granted her first good look at him, this stranger who was buried inside her, and it all but stopped her heart. He was beautiful—strong, rugged features softened by full lips and dark eyes that burned with passion and intelligence. He was as stunning as all of Harley’s men, but there was more to him than a handsome face or a gorgeous body. There was something in his eyes, something that made her want to know him, to please him.
“I know what you want,” he said. “But I can’t go there until you tell me that you’re mine.” He paused, looking so deep into her she couldn’t believe he didn’t see that she was an imposter.
But in the long, breathless moment that their eyes held and all of Hannah’s secrets and fears seeped into the air between them, his gaze only gentled.
“Because you are mine,” he said softly, his voice as tender as his cock was merciless. “Your pleasure belongs to me, your pain belongs to me. I want it all, Harley. All of you. Don’t fight me anymore. Give it to me. Give it all to me.”
Hannah’s breath rushed out through her parted lips, but she didn’t know what to say, how to tell him she was a liar when this moment felt so real, so right.
“You can trust me.” He flexed his buttocks, forcing his cock impossibly deeper, making her groan in pleasure. In pain.
Pleasure-pain. They were one and the same with this man and she wanted nothing more than to give him what he wanted, whatever he wanted so long as he would never stop hurting her, healing her, possessing her in a way she’d never realized she wanted to be possessed until this stranger had claimed her for his own.
But she wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers.
He belonged to her sister and this was so wrong that “wrong” wasn’t a big enough word to describe it—this betrayal, this sacrilege, this terrible, terrible thing she’d allowed to happen. She should have fought harder, screamed the truth until he understood she wasn’t playing
Her body clenched down, liquid heat gushing out to dampen her thighs as pleasure rocketed through her core and his tongue continued to fuck her mouth, building her need again even as her pussy still throbbed and clutched at his thick fingers.
By the time he grabbed her behind the knees, forcing her legs up and out—until her knees were in her armpits and she was bared to him, from her ass to her dripping sex—she was beyond words, beyond identity, beyond awareness of anything but the blunt head of his engorged cock hot at her entrance.
Fear flashed through her for a moment—she was on the pill, but she’d never had sex without a condom before—but then he was gliding into her, shoving through her swollen flesh, stretching her so wide she wasn’t sure she’d ever be the same again.
She moaned, pain and pleasure warring within her as he claimed her in one long, slow stroke. He was enormous and so thick her body fought to eject him, to banish the burning sensation he caused between her legs. But he kept coming. And coming and coming, until she swore she could feel him in her belly, in her lungs. He was everywhere, his hot thickness filling her up until there was no room for anything but him.
She tried to breathe deeper, to center herself, to hold on to that sacred, hidden kernel of her soul no man had ever touched, but she couldn’t find it.
There was only him, his heat, his rain and campfire smell, and his need, spearing her in two, insisting she take everything he had to give.
“Look at me,” he said, holding still inside her, his voice demanding she obey. “Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes to his, a ragged sob escaping from her strained throat. At this angle, the light from the bathroom hit his face and she was granted her first good look at him, this stranger who was buried inside her, and it all but stopped her heart. He was beautiful—strong, rugged features softened by full lips and dark eyes that burned with passion and intelligence. He was as stunning as all of Harley’s men, but there was more to him than a handsome face or a gorgeous body. There was something in his eyes, something that made her want to know him, to please him.
“I know what you want,” he said. “But I can’t go there until you tell me that you’re mine.” He paused, looking so deep into her she couldn’t believe he didn’t see that she was an imposter.
But in the long, breathless moment that their eyes held and all of Hannah’s secrets and fears seeped into the air between them, his gaze only gentled.
“Because you are mine,” he said softly, his voice as tender as his cock was merciless. “Your pleasure belongs to me, your pain belongs to me. I want it all, Harley. All of you. Don’t fight me anymore. Give it to me. Give it all to me.”
Hannah’s breath rushed out through her parted lips, but she didn’t know what to say, how to tell him she was a liar when this moment felt so real, so right.
“You can trust me.” He flexed his buttocks, forcing his cock impossibly deeper, making her groan in pleasure. In pain.
Pleasure-pain. They were one and the same with this man and she wanted nothing more than to give him what he wanted, whatever he wanted so long as he would never stop hurting her, healing her, possessing her in a way she’d never realized she wanted to be possessed until this stranger had claimed her for his own.
But she wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers.
He belonged to her sister and this was so wrong that “wrong” wasn’t a big enough word to describe it—this betrayal, this sacrilege, this terrible, terrible thing she’d allowed to happen. She should have fought harder, screamed the truth until he understood she wasn’t playing
Similar Books
Bound by the Mist (Mists of Eria)
Lisa Kumar
Chronicles of Athena Lee
T S Paul
The Loner: Inferno #12
J.A. Johnstone
The Discovery, A Novel
Dan Walsh
Lesbian Love: Virgins and Cheerleaders
Jacqui Knight
Intentions - SF9
Susan X Meagher
Self-Esteem
Preston David Bailey
Desperation of Love
Alice Montalvo-Tribue
Compelled (Vampires in America #10.5)
D. B. Reynolds
Starhammer
Christopher Rowley