"Does that frighten you?"
She shook her
head as much as she could, fighting against his tight grip.
"Does it excite you?"
"Yes."
"Tell me what you want."
"You." The word was ragged. Raw. "God, Dallas, I want you."
"You have me, baby."
He released her hair, then steadied her before cocking his head to indicate the couch. "Bend over it," he said. "Hands on the cushions. Chest on the back. I want your ass in the air."
She met his eyes, and he saw desire as thick as his own. "Yes, sir."
Her easy compliance just about did him in, and he felt his cock throbbing with need. Dammit, he was going to fuck her. He had to fuck her. To claim her. To prove to both of them that they were together. Completely. Wholly.
He moved behind her, then held on to her hair with one hand, his other on her hip. She still wore the tiny thong panties, and he considered just ripping them off her, but there was something so enticing about taking her with them on. About urging her legs apart, shoving the damn panties to the side, and thrusting his cock inside her just like he wanted to do. Just like he was doing now.
And he was.
He was hard and he was inside her, and her back was arched as she moaned with the pleasure of being filled by him. Oh, fuck. Oh, yes.
He grabbed her hips, certain that this wouldn't last, but damn sure hoping he was wrong. He held her, then pounded roughly into her, faster, deeper, wilder.
She moaned, crying out his name. Begging him to fuck her harder. And damned if he didn't do just that. She was his--his--and he was inside her. Owning her. Taking what he wanted. What he needed.
He reached forward with one hand, holding her around the throat, making her submission complete. With his other, he reached beneath her, finding her clit and teasing it as he thrust harder and harder, then felt his balls tighten with the familiar sensation that led to an explosion.
And oh, holy shit, he was actually going to come inside her. For the first time in seventeen fucking years, he was going to come inside the woman he loved.
"Jane," he cried as his body shattered. He fell over her, his chest to her back, as his fingers continued to stroke her.
"Oh, god, Dallas," she cried as he still trembled against her. "Dallas," she repeated as he pulled out, then turned her around so that he could draw her to him, embracing her, holding her, loving her.
Tears ran down her cheeks, and she started to say his name again, but he cut her off, silencing her with a kiss, his mouth taking her as wildly and eagerly as his cock had.
He'd claimed her.
He had no idea if he'd be able to manage every time. If he was cured, or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. But as he lifted her into his arms and headed for the bedroom, he realized he didn't care.
Right now, this was enough. Right now, they had everything, because they had each other.
Yes, they still had to face the judgment of the world. And, yes, there were still lingering secrets between them. Dallas knew damn well he was playing with fire by not telling her his worries about Colin. But despite all of that, he felt closer to her now than he ever had. They were together. They were whole.
And they were resolved to get through whatever the world threw at them. It wouldn't be easy. But, dammit, it would be real.
Gently, he laid her on the bed, then just about melted at the tender way she smiled up at him. "Are you okay?" he asked, knowing he'd fucked her too damn hard. Hell, he could already see a bruise rising on her throat, and he brushed the pad of his thumb gently over it, hating the thought that he might have hurt her, but also loving the fact that he'd marked her. With his hands. With his cock.
"Okay?" she repeated as laughter bubbled out of her. "Dallas, my god. Are you okay?"
"Baby, I couldn't be better."
"Can you--I mean, are you--oh, fuck. Are you going to be able to do it again?" Her cheeks bloomed pink.