He didn’t give her a chance to protest or enough breath to say no, and he made certain she was unable to outright reject him.

Did she want to protest?

Did she want to reject him?

How was she supposed to know? He wouldn’t give her a chance to speak or a chance to think. But he let her feel.

Paige moaned, the sound seeming torn from the depths of her soul as his lips rubbed against hers, possessed hers. Licks and nips and his tongue pumping into her mouth, stroking against her tongue and sparring with it as she strained to get closer and to take control of the sumptuous pleasure.

The pleasure. She’d always wanted the pleasure of his touch, the exquisite ecstasy of his kiss. She swore pure white-hot flames were licking at her sensitive flesh and the delicate tips of her tight, hard nipples.

Her clit was swollen, throbbing. She wanted to rub against the power of his heavy thigh, to ease the agony of need pounding at the bundle of nerves.

His kiss was like a drug. It was addicting. She wanted more and he wasn’t giving it to her.

Paige struggled against the hold on her wrists. Arching closer to the hard hips settling between hers, she cried out into his kiss as the thick, heavy length of his cock pressed into the folds of her pussy.

“Oh God, yes. Abram, yes, please.” Tearing her mouth from his she gasped for breath, her head arching back as she rubbed her clit against the heavy head pressing into it.

He was so hard and hot.

Her pussy creamed heavily, her juices easing along the clenched muscles of her vagina and spilling to the thin, cotton-covered wedge of his cock as his hips rolled against her.

Curling her fingers in pleasure as he continued to restrain her wrists, Paige lifted one leg, her knee bending to move closer and clasp his hip as he rubbed against her again.

Her thighs clenched and tightened. The hunger for the rising orgasm was building inside her like a flaming conflagration she couldn’t control.

And she didn’t want to control it. She wanted it to keep racing out of control, to keep burning through her and leaving every inch of her body so sensitive that each touch was rapture.

Forcing her eyes open she stared up at him as his free hand caressed up her side to cup the curve of her swollen breast. The touch of his calloused palm had her nipple tingling almost painfully until the pad of his thumb stroked across it.

“Oh yes,” she moaned as sensation raced straight to her womb where it clenched and sent a surge of electric ecstasy racing through her pussy.

Each stroke of the roughened flesh against the tight bud of her nipple was an agony of pleasure. Brilliant streaks of fiery sensation tingled and built until she was arching tighter to him, the thought of his lips and tongue surrounding the peak making her crazy for the feel of it.

“Abram.” She could hear the weak plea in her voice now, but she had no idea how to ask for what she needed. How to beg for it.

“Should I stop, love?” he crooned as his head lowered to her shoulder and his tongue licked over it.

Her hips jerked into his, the friction against her clit causing her to moan in building ecstasy.

“No. No, don’t stop,” she gasped.

“The taste of you is like the finest wine.” The sound of his voice, guttural and rough as his lips moved along her neck, her jaw, had her shivering in pleasure.

The sensations were so intense she wondered if she would actually manage to orgasm before he even thrust his cock inside her.

His head moved from her jaw, down her neck again, to the smooth, sensitive flesh above her breasts. She was dying for the touch of his lips against her nipples and he was killing her as he continued to hold that caress from her.

“Abram, please,” she begged, her voice raspy.

“Please, precious,” he crooned in a dark, black velvet tone. “Please let me touch you. Just for this moment.” There was no plea in his tone despite the words.

There was nothing but pure, dominant demand.

One hand still held her wrists, his fingers locked around them to hold her in place. His lips lifted from her upper chest, his black eyes flaming with heated hunger as he stared down at her.

The expression on his face had her hips arching involuntarily, desperate for more now. cov height="0em">

She couldn’t get enough of him. Each touch had her flesh tingling, aching for more.

The long, powerful fingers cupping her breast lifted it, his gaze holding hers as his head lowered, lips parting, his tongue peeking out to curl around her nipple as his lips met the flushed, swollen flesh.

“Yes,” she hissed roughly as she watched, mesmerized by his lips closing on the tip and the feel of his mouth suddenly drawing on it, his tongue rubbing and stroking the nerve-laden tip. “That’s so good.” She arched again, her back bowing as she pressed her pussy into the heavy heat of his cock. “It’s so good in your mouth, Abram. So hot.”

She was afraid she was going to come from this alone and she didn’t even care. She just wanted to come. She wanted the explosion tearing through her senses and throwing her into a pleasure she knew was going to leave her aching for more.

Sensation was racing to her clit, to her pussy. Her womb clenched hard and tight, rippling with nearing ecstasy as she moaned and fought desperately to get closer to him.

The heated, heavy juices of her arousal were saturating her pussy now, as well as the cotton that covered his leg where it pressed into her.

A cry tore from her as his teeth pressed against the hard nipple, sensitizing it further. He raked them against it, then drew it back, sucked it inside, and licked over it.

The different sensations were killing her with pleasure.

“What are you doing to me?” she gasped. “Oh God, Abram, it’s so good. So good.”

His head lifted to allow his lips to smooth over her nipple. “I’m pleasuring you, baby,” he growled. “And how I’ve dreamed of pleasuring you.”

Paige pushed her head deeper into the pillow behind her as she lifted, trying to get closer.

“I can’t think,” she cried out. “Let me think.”

She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t draw in enough oxygen to push the sound free.

As she fought for breath, fought to find a way to think, to consider what she was doing, she felt his hand move from the curve of her breast, his fingers stroking, rubbing, easing slowly down her torso, over her lower stomach, then brushing against the light growth of curls at the top of her sex.

Her fingers curled against his hand as his fingers slid through the slick, saturated slit of her pussy. He parted the swollen folds, the roughened fingertips rubbing and stroking until his fingers found her straining c0">Her finrawing another cry from her lips.

She loved it. Each touch. It was incredible.

It was like little flares of lightning piercing her clit each time he stroked around it, sending flames to caress her pussy.

Her hips jerked, pushing closer, feeling his fingers rake against the opening of her saturated cunt. She could feel her juices, thick and heated as they coated the folds and then his fingers.

The need for more, the need to have his fingers filling her was making her crazy.

“What do you want, Paige?” he groaned, his voice rough. “Tell me, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

“You know what I want,” she protested weakly.

She couldn’t think. She couldn’t make sense of the impulses surging through her system.

“Let me hear it,” he demanded roughly. “Tell me what you want. How should I touch you?”

She shook her head, imperatively. So many fantasies. She wanted so much, needed so much. How was she supposed to settle for just one touch?

“How sweet and soft your pussy feels, Paige.” His lips moved against her nipples again. “I love the feel of it against my fingers, but I want to feel it on my tongue. The way your juices feel, the tug of your pussy as I fuck my tongue inside you. The feel of you coming on my tongue—”