He slammed in hard.
She would be his. He would drill so far inside her that she couldn’t possibly get rid of him.
Again and again.
Then he heard it. Her keening gasp.
And then, God, she became a wild thing beneath him. Pulsing and crying as her body fisted him.
Yes!
He exploded.
Mine!
* * *
Mellie came awake slowly. She was spooning in Trevor’s arms, her mind drifting, but her body entwined with his. Hours had passed. She knew it because the window in his room gave her a view of the sky. There were stars still, but fewer than before. Dawn couldn’t be more than an hour away.
But that was her only thought as she felt Trevor’s hands on her body. They were moving slowly, almost reverently. He stroked her skin, brushing her belly with heat, lifting her breasts as he brought fire to her nipples.
And behind her bottom, she felt his penis—thick and hot—as it pressed tiny pulses against her. The movements were so slow—above and below—that she wondered if he was even awake. Then she felt the press of his lips against her shoulder and the murmur of her name on his lips.
“Mellie.”
“Ummm,” she said in response.
“Mellie, it’s almost morning. I need to get you home.”
She knew it was true, but the way he touched her body mesmerized her into stillness. Or perhaps, not quite stillness, as she arched into the hand on her breast and pushed back against his cock.
He groaned as she did that, and she felt his teeth gently nip at the base of her neck right above her shoulder blades. She shivered in response, and he groaned again.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
“I feel wonderful.”
“You don’t regret—” he began, but she cut him off.
“Make me feel wonderful again.” And lest he mistake her meaning, she lifted her leg and slid it over his. The hand on her belly stilled, but she knew what she wanted, so she took his wrist and pushed his hand lower.
He knew what he was doing. Lord, he always knew what she wanted. He slid his long fingers between her cleft and began to stroke her where she wanted.
“So wet,” he murmured. Then more clearly. “Are you sure you’re not sore?”
She hadn’t the words as he stroked over her pulsing clitoris. She knew the medical word because she’d looked it up. She knew a great deal about sexuality now because she’d made a point to learn what she could. Sadly, there wasn’t much information to be found other than the anatomical names. The rest she’d learned from him or from her own nighttime stimulations.
But none of what she’d experienced before had come close to last night’s penetration. There was so much more to her time with Trevor than the contraction of muscles and the ensuing pleasure. With him, she felt a connection. As if he would die if he couldn’t be deep inside her. As if she was fallow without his possession.
And now, when he stroked her clitoris, she felt the familiar build to pleasure. Her belly tightened, her breath began to stutter, but it wasn’t what she wanted. Inside she was still empty, and she wanted to be filled by him.
“Not like this,” she gasped as she pulled away his hand. Then she turned to face him. “Take me.”
He blinked, his eyes bloodshot, but with intense focus. “Mellie—” He groaned, hunger in the sound. “It’s too soon.”
She flashed him a wicked smile, choosing this moment to echo his words. “Trust me,” she said. “It will all be all right.”
He knew that she was teasing him. She saw the rueful awareness hit his expression. But then she twisted her hips then reached down to grab hold of him. He’d taught her how to stroke him, and so she started with the head—a circle of her fingers—before she pushed down and around him.