What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [137]
“Mmm,” she moaned when it was done, letting herself rest on his chest, his erection inside her.
“Was it good, baby?” he asked low in her ear.
“So good,” she whispered—then she rested there for a long, idyllic moment, listening to the birds and the waterfall, and the violins. “Where are they?” she asked then. “The violins?”
“The quartet from the masquerade is on the other side of those bushes,” Brent said softly, pointing in the distance. And she smiled into his chest, thinking he truly was a man who knew how to make fantasies come true.
Once she got her strength back, she lifted her head from his chest and continued being this most aggressive version of herself—and loving the freedom Brent had given her to do so. “Now I want something you’ve taught me to appreciate far more than I ever did before.”
“Name it, sunshine.”
“Please fuck me hard, Brent,” she said. “Make me scream.”
As the words left her, she felt unashamed, simply joyful, cherishing the pleasure this man brought her. And then—wow—a more profound truth struck. Before Brent, feeling so free and unashamed had been something she could only fantasize about, or maybe wish for in a dark, hidden part of her mind. But Brent had made it real.
In response to her request, Brent turned her away from him, on her knees, instructing her to hold on to the curving brass headrails. When his hands molded to her hips, she braced herself, and then—yes—the hot, hard entry made her cry out. Mmm, God, he always felt especially big in this position, too, and as he began to fuck her, indeed making her sob with every pummeling stroke, she could barely stand the shocking joy of it.
Both of them moaned as he drove into her slickness, again, again, leaving Jenna replete with pleasure—full with it, as full as she could be—until Brent began to rub one fingertip over the fissure of her ass and she realized she was wrong; there was still more pleasure to be had.
Her face flushed and her whole body perspired as Brent slid his finger into her ass. Oh God, yes. She heard herself yowling, felt herself begin to tremble.
“I love to fuck you, baby,” Brent was murmuring, his voice deep and raspy. “I love to fuck this sweet little pussy. And I love to fuck this tight little ass.”
“Yes! Yes!” she was screaming. It was all too much. Too much sensation to bear. Every cell of her body throbbed, and she needed to come like she needed to breathe. “Rub me,” she begged. “Please, Brent, rub me!”
“Aw, baby,” he growled at the request, and the next thing she knew, the fingers of his free hand pressed between her legs.
“Oh! Oh God!” That was all it took to send her into an explosive orgasm that utterly consumed her. After that, there was only screaming and thrashing and pulsations that stretched outward through every limb, the climax rivaling the one when Brent had found her G-spot. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe—her whole world in that moment was about coming.
It was as Jenna’s wild climax finally faded that Brent’s low groan met her ear. “Oh, fuck, honey—me, too.” Then he nearly nailed her to the brass rails with the ferocious drives of his cock, moaning and growling with each powerful thrust.
Jenna’s body went limp and she found herself in a tangled heap with Brent among the slick satin sheets. When she recovered enough to open her eyes, she found his head on the pillow next to hers, his dark gaze pinning her in place. “I love you, sunshine,” he said.
And Jenna’s heart nearly stopped. She’d adored what had just happened between them, but she’d had no idea it was leading to this.
“What?” she breathed.
“I love you,” he repeated, sounding amazingly sure, “and I’m an idiot because I tried to fight it.”
Jenna lay staring at him, aware that at some point her jaw had dropped. “I love you, too,” she said, still shaken.
“I know,” he said, reaching up to touch her face. Then he closed his eyes, tight, and Jenna realized he was—oh God—fighting back tears.