Dirty Devil / The Fling. Stefanie London
of his universe. That nothing was more important for him right now than what I was showing him.
‘Fuck, you’re hot,’ he murmured in that dark, purring voice. ‘Keep your eyes on me. I want to watch you come again.’
I could feel his body beneath mine tensing up, but he didn’t move, continuing to hold himself back. And I wanted to push him, drive him as crazy as he was driving me, so I pressed his fingers to my slippery flesh, showing him how I liked it, hard then soft, light then firm, drawing it out until I was gasping and trembling.
‘Come all over my fingers, Sugar,’ he whispered. ‘Do it.’
And I did, my control slipping away, the pleasure washing over me, a deep, strong wave that had me moaning, holding his fingers hard against me as the orgasm caught me up and held me fast.
I was still shuddering through it when he wrapped an arm around my waist and turned us over, so I was lying beneath him and he was still buried deep inside me.
‘I’m going to fuck you now.’ He leaned over me. ‘If it gets too much, tell me to stop.’
‘Okay,’ I croaked, the breath going out of my lungs as his weight settled on me. But, God, he felt good. He was big and hot inside me, and over me too.
Putting one hand on my hip to keep me in place, he reached up with the other and gripped the ornate wooden headboard. Then he drew his hips back in a long, slow glide before pushing forward, again long and slow, using the headboard as leverage.
I gasped and shuddered at the sensation, the aftershocks I was already feeling intensifying, spilling over into yet more, almost unbearable, pleasure.
He thrust again, looking down at me as he moved, his biceps flexing as he gripped the headboard. Going deeper, harder.
‘Yes,’ I whispered raggedly. ‘Yes... God...’
His eyes were pure silver and he wasn’t smiling now, his jaw tight, the expression on his face burning.
I stared back, unable to look away as the pleasure rolled over me, irresistible, unstoppable. The pressure in combination with the intense way he was looking at me was agonising, yet I didn’t want him to stop.
I never wanted him to stop.
I put my hands on his lean hips, his skin hot under my palms, and arched my spine, moving with him, watching the pleasure burn in his eyes.
‘Look at you,’ he purred like a big, lazy cat. ‘Look at you, all beautiful and perfect.’ He drove inside me harder, deeper, searching my face, looking at me as if I was a fabulous new piece of jewellery he wanted to acquire. ‘Who are you? Give me your name.’
I groaned, arching beneath him as another climax threatened. Another one; God! What was this man doing to me?
He adjusted his angle slightly, as if he knew exactly what was going through my head, and suddenly I was shaking and gasping as the pleasure exploded through my body without warning.
He let go of the headboard and gathered me up in his arms, holding me as I shuddered, my face turned into his neck. ‘Thea,’ I said hoarsely against his skin, giving him a gift for all the pleasure he’d given me. ‘My name is Thea.’
His arms around me tightened and he thrust once more, hard and deep, and groaned into my hair, his big body shuddering as the orgasm came for him too. ‘Hi, Thea,’ he whispered after a moment, his voice ragged. ‘I’m Damian.’
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