Lawe's Justice - Lora Leigh [112]
“Take me.” He groaned as she straddled his hips, lowering herself and feeling the wide, blunt head of his cock as it parted the swollen folds of her pussy and began to press inside her.
A shiver raced up her spine.
“Too slow.” She moaned. She wanted more, she wanted all of him, and she wanted it now.
His hands tightened on her hips as he pushed upward, penetrating enough, stretching her far enough that her head tipped back, a desperate cry falling from her lips.
Lawe took swift advantage of the arching of her body. Leaning forward just enough to swipe his roughened tongue over the tip of her breast, licking and laving it as she twisted against him, forcing him deeper inside her.
His hands stroked from her hips to her back, pulling her closer, his lips surrounding her nipple, pulling it into his mouth and surrounding it with tight, fiery suction. As his tongue lashed at the tender, over-sensitized tip, his hips surged upward, burying himself to the hilt inside her as she cried out at the pleasure flaming through her.
His hands clenched at her rear as he began to move her, his hands lifting her then pulling her down, his hips surging upward, impaling her hard and deep as talons of sharp sensation blazed across her senses.
His cock stretched her, throbbed inside her, pushing her closer to that abyss of pure ecstasy that she could feel beginning to build around her.
Another harsh, deep-throated growl sounded from his throat as she felt her pussy tightening on the heavy flesh invading it, desperate to hold him inside her, to feel the throbbing caress deeper inside her.
Heat built around her, built inside her.
Rising and lifting herself, his hands gripping her ass, moving in rhythm with him, Diane felt the hunger building. The pinching stretch of his cock moving inside her pushed the need deeper, hotter. With each thrust through tissue sensitized by his touch, by the heat, by the arousal that seemed to climb further inside her with each thrust, Lawe marked her, took her with a hunger she knew she couldn’t live without now.
She was close, so very close, when he moved. Lifting her from him despite her sudden cry of protest, he turned her, pushed her to her knees in the chair and then moved behind her.
Between one breath and the next he had her where she had hungered to be. Covering her, his cock pushing inside her as he came over her, his lips taking stinging kisses of her neck as he began to fuck her with driving strokes.
The slap of damp flesh, the feel of him moving inside her, stretching her, thrusting powerfully into the tightening grip of her pussy, had her nails digging into the upholstery of the chair as she cried out in rising bliss.
She couldn’t hold back the sounds, she couldn’t hold back the loss of control. The ability to restrain herself, to rein in the sensations that pierced her, that urged her to give herself to him, all of herself to him, was gone.
It wasn’t mating heat. It wasn’t just the pleasure. It wasn’t the fear of her loss of independence or the fear of the loss of herself. It was the man. The Breed. It was the pleasure she had instinctively known was coming amplified by his insistence that he build on it. That he force her deeper into the blaze, that he brush her hair back from her neck, lick over the too-sensitive wound, then slanting his head, his canines pierced it once again.
Diane erupted into a release so blinding, so burning hot she lost her breath. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t cry out his name. She could only hold on as ecstasy exploded over and over as she felt the barb extend, felt it vibrating inside her, pushing over another blazing edge of sensation that only amplified the release.
She was a creature of pure, sensual sensation.
She was lost in him. Lost in a feeling that locked them together more firmly than the barb locking them together. Held her tighter to him than any bonds, either natural or man-made, ever could.
Clenching, spilling her release to his, her pussy rippled around the penetration of his cock and the locking