The Best Kind of Forever (Riverside Reapers, #1)(64)

His breath mutates into a guttural rumble that shakes my frame. “If you’re going to continue milking me like that, you better be ready to watch my cum drip out of you.”

When he goes to silence my mewls, I can taste the bitter tang of chocolate on his tongue. There’s a slow crawl of heat that sprawls in my stomach when he bucks against me, every banded muscle in his torso tightening like a rope.

His hands are firmly dug into my sides to keep me in place as I ride him. He pistons his hips against my pelvis, something heady darkening in his eyes. I arch against him to grant him a better angle, and I can feel a burning pain blaze up from where his nails are breaking through my skin.

“Fucking hell, Aeris. I need to feel every inch of you. Please let me feel every inch of you.”

The faster I go, the quicker his self-control vanishes, and I’m cherishing every single moment of him begging for mercy. Hayes Hollings. Begging. That’s an Eighth Wonder of the World.

A symphony of moans ruptures the sex-fueled atmosphere. We nearly tip over the chair we’re both on as Hayes’ arm shoots out to grip the edge of the table. The only noise in my ears is the squelching of skin on skin, the slapping of my ass on his solid thighs, and the slurping of my vagina as I slide effortlessly over his erection.

His length twitches inside of me. “Fuck me,” he groans, his chest heaving.

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

I lick my way up his neck, savoring the sweetness of the chocolate, even loving the tinge of salt from the sweat encasing his flesh. My tongue outlines his pulse point, and even though I can’t see it, I can feel it beat steadily.

He chuckles something deep and throaty, arousal composing his words. “That tongue’s going to get you in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

He bends forward, his lips on my collarbone, his teeth brushing against the taut skin. When I feel him bite down, I know a hickey will be there.

“How about…”

Hayes’ hands guide my hips as he thrusts into me, alighting a wick of lust, a flickering flame that burns my veins and promises to slacken every one of my muscles. I bite back a whiny moan.

“…a little…”

The next time I bear down on him, his cock probes against the spot that has me seeing stars, and I’m not even fully comprehending what he’s telling me. No, I’m too distracted by the overwhelming ache twisting my insides into balloon animals.

“…edging?” he finishes, and within a second, he’s moved me off him and pulled out.

He moved me like I was weightless. Hell, I didn’t even realize we’d changed positions. That electrifying need I was chasing dims to a tiny spark, and I’m about to grouse my annoyance, but then he bends me over the table.

The collision of my chest against the wood isn’t hard, but it’s definitely powerful enough to make me gasp. From behind me, Hayes wraps his hand around my throat. I’m shivering from the chocolate cooling on my skin and the way he has my bare pussy spread open.

“I can’t. I need to…”

“Come? You will. Just when I say so.”

My legs shake as my vagina throbs, and I swallow harshly under his fingers.

His hand is keeping my head lifted, and he presses his crotch to my ass, the weight of his dick nudging against my thigh. Anarchy breaks out inside me, and I’ve never wanted something so badly in my entire life.

Impatience oozes from my tongue. “Hayes, if you d—”

His fingers tighten around my neck, and then I feel his breath skate down the side of my cheek. “You’ll what?”

Oh my God. I need him to fuck me. I need him to do something. Anything.

I whimper when he starts to swivel his hips, the tip of his cock prodding along my wet entrance.

“I’ll do it myself,” I growl.

“Like hell you will.”

He finally sinks into me, his dick performing knee-weakening and mind-numbing strokes. Each one is purposeful, precise, and they operate at a speed that has my walls fluttering in tandem. Both of his hands have migrated down to my ass, and he slaps one of my cheeks so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if it shook the walls.

Between the sting in my ass cheek and each slam of his penis, I’m close, panting for that ache between my legs to be satiated. His grip on my hips is starting to waver, and the timing of his breaths is becoming more erratic.

With one last jerk from Hayes, my orgasm hits, stringing me up by my neck and flinging me into the stratosphere. Not far behind me, I can feel him as he releases, his cock spitting warmth into my lower half, and there’s cum dribbling down the inside of my thigh when I collapse onto him.

We’re both a boneless pile of sweat and chocolate sauce, and it takes us a few minutes before we even consider moving in the slightest. With my back to his chest, I can hear the rapid pounding of his heart, feel his hard stomach expand with air.

He uses two fingers to gather the cum that’s on my leg and push it back inside me.

“I don’t know how, but that was better than the first time,” he breathes against my neck, his chest rumbling with delight underneath me.

Is there some weird, universal thing that happens in people to compel them to admit their love for their partner after they just fucked like animals? Because if there is, I’m right there, and I’m so close to telling Hayes that—