He shuddered and thrust into her hold, but his words were clear. “What do you want, Mellie? What—”
“How deeply can you penetrate me?”
She watched his eyes widen, saw him swallow, but he answered calmly. “There’s a position,” he said.
She grinned. “Show me.”
He nodded, then rose from the bed. She’d seen him naked before, but now she saw him like a god rising before her. Muscled chest dusted lightly with hair, broad shoulders and strong arms as he lifted her knees and, of course, the broad head of his penis between them.
“I will stop if it hurts.”
She shook her head. Nothing hurt. Absolutely nothing at all.
Then he carefully lifted her legs, putting her ankles on his shoulders. She was spread before him, and he seemed to grow in size, his chest between her legs, his penis pressed against her curls.
Then he adjusted her even wider, helping her slide her legs such that her knees lay in the crook of his elbows. She’d never felt more decadent in her life. Or more open. This truly was why they called it plowing a woman. His penis would be the blade that cut her open, and she couldn’t be more thrilled.
He used his thumb to stroke her. His press started gently, but he rapidly built the tension because there was nowhere for her to go. She arched beneath him, she squeezed her legs against his arms, but there was no escape from the steady press and circle of his thumb. She pulsed beneath him, her hips lifted and lowered into his stroke, and her breasts ached with need.
“Touch your breasts,” he said. He had one free hand to reach forward, but he wanted her to work her other side. She did as he bid, lifting her right breast to his view while he stroked her left.
“Pinch your nipple.”
He did, and she did. And fire flared from her chest to her belly and sizzled in her spread thighs.
“Now,” she gasped. “Trevor, now.”
His hand dropped away from her breast, and he leaned forward.
“Please—” she began.
He speared her.
A thick penetration that burned with pleasure.
Oh yes!
“Mellie—”
“Again!”
He leaned forward a little more, pulling her legs wider as he moved. She felt his slow withdrawal, the collapse of her belly, the suction as she tried to keep him inside. But he was the man, and he did as he willed.
He pulled back, but he didn’t escape. And then he thrust again.
Yes.
She was impaled, and the impact sent sparks of fire shooting through her body.
“Again!”
This time, she was the one who spread her legs further. She was the one who tightened her calves trying to pull him deeper. And she was the one who gripped his strong shoulders and held on.
Yes!
Yes!
Yes!