She really is the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever lai
d eyes—or hands—on. Is it any wonder she brings out every primitive instinct that I’ve got?
I tighten my grip on her ass as I speed my progress across the room and I don’t stop until I’ve got her backed up against the wall. Her legs and arms are still twined around me, but at least now I have the leverage to do what I want with her. Which is every fucking thing I can think of and some that haven’t even been invented yet.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her, pressing kisses to her mouth, her throat, the tops of her breasts. “So fucking gorgeous that I can’t believe I even get to touch you.”
She moans, calls out my name. In response, I slide my hands under her rear, run them up and down her spine, and tell her over and over again how hot she is. How much I want her. How fucking sexy she is and how fucking hard she gets me.
By the time I’m done, her breath is coming in a series of hot little pants. Her hands are tugging at my hair, her legs wrapped tight around my waist, her sex nestled hot and wet against my cock. And all I can think is don’t lose it, don’t fucking lose it. Not now, not yet.
Not when I haven’t gotten her there yet.
But already I’m close, so fucking close. Already I want nothing more than to bury myself inside her and feel her clench around me when I come. I thought she’d be disgusted when she saw the scars on my body—God knows I am—but she didn’t say a word. Hell, she barely glanced at them.
I’ve kept them hidden from everyone but the doctors, too ashamed to let anyone see what was done to me. What I let them do to me. But with Lola—she doesn’t make me feel like less of a man for having been tortured. She doesn’t make me feel like less of anything. In fact, she’s just seen them and still she’s practically begging me to take her, to make her come.
No way am I going to disappoint her.
With that thought in mind, I rip her belt open.
Slide her robe over her shoulders onto the floor.
Slam her back against the wall.
Swallow her cries as her bare skin hits the cold wall and she arches against me.
“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” I tell her, kissing my way along her collarbone and over to her shoulder. It’s ridiculous how hot I find this little patch of her—then again, I find everything about her sexy. Especially the little clusters of freckles that dance across her shoulders. And the little mole on the outer curve of her left breast. And the soft pink of her nipples.
“Everything about you makes me hot,” I whisper against her skin. She moans a little, rocks her hips against mine, and I see fucking stars at the feel of her pussy—warm and wet and welcoming—against the hardness of my dick. In self-defense, I grab her hip, pressing more firmly against her in a last-ditch attempt to hold her still as I continue to press wet, open-mouthed kisses across her shoulder and down her bicep.
“The way your skin turns pink when you’re turned on.” I lick across the upper curve of first one breast and then the other.
“The way your nipples always harden before I even touch them.” I take one in my mouth and suck hard enough to have her calling out my name.
“The broken, breathy sounds you make when you want me inside you.” I bite down gently, then lave my tongue around her areola as she lets loose with the sounds I just described.
“The way your hands rake down my back when I touch your pussy.” I slip a hand between us and circle her clit with my thumb.
She cries out then, a loud, desperate sound that has my dick leaking pre-cum and every nerve ending in my body standing on end.
I do it again, reveling in the way her hands clutch at my shoulders.
At the way her head rocks back and forth against the wall.
At the way her legs tighten around my hips and her fingernails dig into my skin as she begs, “Please, please, please.”
“Just looking at you makes me harder than I’ve ever been. And being inside you—” I thrust against the very heart of her at the same time I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger. “Being inside you makes me—”
I break off as she comes, her arms and legs and hands tightening around me as she brokenly calls my name.
Thank God.
“Fuck, Lola.” I keep my thumb on her clit, working her through it even as I slip two fingers inside of her because there is nothing, nothing, that I love more than the way she clenches around me. The way her body holds onto a part of me like she never, never wants to let it go.
I hold her there, pressed against the wall, until the tremors stop.
Until her breathing returns to normal and she sleepily opens her eyes.