He leans down, resting his forearms on either side of my head and fisting his hands into my hair. Into my ear, he snarls, “I knew you’d feel like heaven.”
Then he snaps his hips again, thrusting hard.
My breasts bounce against his chest, my nipples dragging against the small metal piercings in his. I cry out in pleasure.
Chuckling, he pulls on my hair. His voice dark, he commands, “Ask me to fuck you again, wife.”
It comes out in one long, breathless rush. “Please fuck me oh God Quinn fuck me if you stop now I’ll kill you as soon as I can!”
He thrusts again. And again. And again. Each time, I sink my nails deeper into his flesh and moan helplessly, lost to sensation.
He starts to speak in Gaelic, a hot stream of words I don’t understand, but adore listening to. It’s a beautiful language, musical and lilting, but with a hard edge that also makes it sound masculine and sexy as hell.
Just as I’m about to come again, he rolls onto his back, taking me with him. Breathing hard and sweating, I stare down at him in hazy surprise.
His fingers digging into the flesh of my hips, he looks up at me with blazing eyes and orders, “Fuck that cock, baby. Ride me and make yourself come.”
I almost pass out from excitement.
Leaning over, I plant my hands on his strong chest and balance myself as I bounce up and down on his thick shaft. He feels incredible. I’m stuffed with his cock, full to overflowing, and I love it more than I should.
I love it more than anything.
I’ll worry about that later, but for now, I’m having the time of my life. This is way better than any of my toys could ever be.
My eyes slide shut. My lips part. When I dig my fingernails into his chest and release a breathless low moan, he laughs.
It’s a gravelly sound. One full of pleasure.
“You’re perfect. Look at you, my beautiful wife. Jesus, these tits.”
He reaches up and engulfs them in his big hands, squeezing and fondling them as I rock back and forth, grinding my clit against his pelvis. He pinches both my nipples at the same time, and my grinding grows more frantic.
When he sits up, grabbing me around the waist to steady me as he latches onto my nipple with his wonderful hot mouth, it forces his cock even deeper inside me.
My grinding turns frenzied. I start to buck and groan, pulling on his hair.
He bites my nipple, and I come, screaming.
Holding me tightly with his arms wrapped around my waist, he thrusts into me with short, hard snaps of his hips as my pussy clenches around his cock. He throbs inside me, a pulsing, rigid invader, stretching me wide.
I don’t realize I’m sobbing his name over and over until he growls hotly, “Fucking hell, woman, keep crying my name like that, and you’ll make me come.”
I don’t know what makes me do it. It’s not a rational decision. It just bursts out, blurted from ecstasy and some kind of dark, primal need.
“Yes come inside me please please please let me feel you come!”
Hearing me beg like that unleashes something in him. He was carnal before, but now he’s an absolute animal, snarling like a hungry beast set free from a cage.
In a move so fast, it makes me dizzy, he flips me onto my back again, throws my legs up so my ankles are hooked over his shoulders, then fucks me hard and fast, leaning over me with locked arms and wild eyes, his teeth bared as he plunges into me.
“Quinn! Oh God!”
He swallows my cries, crushing his mouth to mine and groaning into it as his body shudders and heaves. I feel him throb deep inside me. He jerks, biting my lips.
Then he throws his head back and groans at the ceiling as he makes one final hard thrust and empties himself inside me.
He’s beautiful. God, he’s so beautiful like this, sweaty and straining, his entire body clenched. I wish I could take a picture to look at later so I won’t forget a single detail.
A wave of emotion hits me hard, squeezing my lungs and stealing my breath. I turn my head and close my eyes, bracing against it, but it doesn’t help. I still feel it all.
Everything inside me aches and burns. All the cells in my body are screaming.
And they’re screaming the same thing:
Quinn.
Quinn.
Quinn.
The name of the man who looks at me like I’m a sunrise and laughs when I threaten to end his life.
The man whose ego is so big, it could flatten a city, but whose heart is so tender, it broke when he saw my scars.
The man I know almost nothing about except that he’s sweeter than any made man should be. Under all his macho swaggering, past his comic book superhero good looks and beyond his armor of snark, there lies a soul that aches with loneliness.
Just like mine does.
Or did, until right now.
Panting, he collapses on top of me. His whole body trembles. He pauses to catch his breath, then takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply.
“Hi,” he says gruffly, looking into my eyes.
“Hi yourself.”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Maybe I’m thinking about pushing you out a window.”
His laugh is low and breathless. “Or maybe you’re thinking about what a sex god I am.”
“Actually, I was thinking that I’m a lot more flexible through the hips than I thought. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m folded in half underneath you.”
“Fuck. Sorry.”
He lifts his chest so I can pull my legs down, then settles right back on top of me, keeping his cock seated inside me the entire time. I wind my arms up around his shoulders, inhale deeply, then exhale, stretching underneath him like a cat.
He gazes at me from under hooded lids. “I have something to say.”
I fling my arms out to the sides and sigh. “Of course you do.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not bad.”
“I’m going to hunt down these therapists of yours and make them change careers. They’re turning grown men into Oprah Winfrey.”
“Be quiet and listen to me.”
“It’s not like I have a choice. You weigh a thousand pounds. I’m not going anywhere.”
He rolls onto his back, adjusts me on top of him so our bodies are aligned, then tucks my head into the crook of his neck and squeezes me.
“Better?”
Snuggling against his hard chest, I nod.
“Okay. So here’s what I want to say.”
There’s a long, ominous pause.
“Don’t break your brain, Quinn. Just say it.”
His chest rises and falls with his heavy exhalation. He slides his open hand down my spine, his fingers gently tracing a path around my scars. Then, abruptly, he starts talking.
“I’ll kill anyone who ever disrespects you. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way. If anyone so much as annoys you, I’ll put a bullet in his skull and throw his body into the Charles River. You never have to fight your own battles again, viper, understood? I’ll fucking destroy any dumb motherfucker who ever dares to even make you frown.”
He’s so vehement and his words are so unlikely, I start to laugh.
“Wow, Romeo. Does sex always make you this stabby?”
“And she’s laughing,” he grumbles. “Bloody wonderful.”
“Wait…” I lift my head and look at him. “Are you serious?”