Page 19

"Tell me you want this," he demands, voice rough with need, his breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I manage, barely recognizing my own voice. "God, yes."

He yanks my underwear aside with such force I hear the fabric tear. His fingers find me slick and ready, and I cry out when he slides one finger inside me without preamble. My body clenches around the intrusion, pleasure spiking through me so intensely that my vision blurs.

"So wet for me," he growls, adding a second finger, stretching me with a delicious burn. His thumb finds my clit, circling with just enough pressure to make my thighs quake. My hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction, but he suddenly slows his movements to an agonizing pace.

"Thomas," I whimper, frustration building as his fingers curl inside me with excruciating deliberation, brushing that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

"Not yet," he whispers against my throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "I want to watch you come undone slowly."

His fingers twist and scissor inside me, building a rhythm that has me climbing rapidly toward release, only for him to withdraw almost completely when my breathing hitches and my inner muscles begin to flutter.

I make a sound of protest, somewhere between a sob and a moan, my body aching with need.

"Please," I gasp, straining against his grip on my wrists, desperate to touch him, to regain control, but he only tightens his hold, a dark smile curving his lips.

"Not until I say," he commands, voice harsh with desire.

But something wild breaks loose inside me. With a strength born of desperation, I wrench one hand free and grab his face, forcing him to look at me.

"Now," I demand, my voice leaving no room for argument.

Something primal flashes in his eyes. He releases my wrists abruptly, stepping back just enough to tear at his belt.

The buckle clangs against the stone floor as he shoves his pants down his hips with frantic movements.

He's back against me in an instant, lifting me higher against the wall, his hands rough on my thighs as he positions himself at my entrance.

Our eyes lock as he presses forward, easing into me with exquisite restraint. My breath catches at the delicious stretch, the familiar yet forgotten sensation of him filling me inch by agonizing inch.

"Oh god," I gasp, my head falling back against the wall as my body accommodates him. His control is visible in the trembling of his muscles, the tension in his jaw as he fights to maintain this torturous pace.

"Look at me," he commands, voice strained. When I meet his gaze, the raw emotion there steals what little breath I have left. "I want to see your face while I'm inside you."

I can't look away as he continues his measured advance, every nerve ending alight with pleasure so intense it borders on pain. My fingers dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moon indentations in his skin.

But I want more. I want him at his most ferocious.

"Is that all you've got?" I whisper against his ear, my voice husky with challenge. "Six years, and you're still treating me like I might break? We’re not—mm—twenty anymore, Thomas.”

Something dangerous flashes in Thomas's eyes—a glimpse of something feral that sends a thrill racing down my spine. His grip on my thighs tightens painfully.

"You don't know what you're asking for," he grounds out.

I arch an eyebrow, deliberately provoking him. "Maybe you've forgotten how to—"

Before I can finish, Thomas pulls out completely, spins me around with startling force, and pushes me against the cold stone wall. The rough surface scrapes against my bare breasts as he kicks my legs apart, one arm snaking around to grip my chest, the other holding my hip hard enough to bruise.

His breath is hot against my ear as he positions himself at my entrance.

"Last chance to back out," he growls, voice barely recognizable.

"Don't you dare stop," I manage to gasp before he slams into me with a force that knocks the air from my lungs.

The sensation is overwhelming—the cold stone against my breasts, his burning heat at my back, the delicious fullness as he fills me completely.

He pulls back and drives in again, setting a punishing rhythm that has me clawing at the wall for purchase.

Each thrust is harder than the last, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small space.

"This what you wanted?" he growls, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, biting down just hard enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through me.

"Yes," I cry out, barely recognizing my own voice as it breaks on the word.

His hand slides from my hip to the apex of my thighs, fingers finding my swollen clit with unerring accuracy.

He circles it ruthlessly, matching the relentless pace of his thrusts, and the dual sensations send me hurtling toward the edge.

"Let go," Thomas commands against my ear, his voice dark and possessive. "Come for me, Fiona."

The tension that's been building snaps like a bowstring. Pleasure crashes through me in violent waves, my inner muscles clenching around him as I shatter completely. I cry out his name, the sound echoing off the stone walls as my vision blurs at the edges.

But Thomas doesn't slow. If anything, he drives into me harder, prolonging my orgasm until I'm sobbing with the intensity of it.

Even as my body trembles in the aftermath, he withdraws suddenly, spinning me back to face him. His eyes are nearly black with desire, a thin ring of blue around dilated pupils.

"We're not done," he growls, lifting me against the wall again. He slides back inside me with one powerful thrust that makes me gasp. I'm oversensitive, every nerve ending raw and exposed, but he shows no mercy.

"Thomas," I whimper, not sure if I'm begging him to stop or continue.

"You can take it," he murmurs against my throat, his rhythm unrelenting. His hands move to my breasts, fingers finding my nipples. He rolls them between his fingertips, applying just enough pressure to walk the exquisite line between pleasure and pain.

I arch into his touch, the dual sensations of his relentless thrusts and skilled fingers overwhelming my already sensitive body. Each stroke sends aftershocks of my previous orgasm rippling through me, building impossibly toward another peak.

"I can't—" I gasp, but Thomas captures my protest with his mouth, kissing me deeply.

"You can," he growls against my lips. "And you will."

He shifts his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

My legs tighten around his waist as he drives into me, each thrust more devastating than the last. The stone wall scrapes against my back, but the pain only heightens the pleasure coursing through my veins.

Thomas's rhythm falters, his breathing ragged against my neck.

"I'm close," he pants, his voice strained. "Come with me, Fiona.”

His plea ignites something primal within me.

My body responds instinctively, inner muscles clenching around him as a second climax builds with frightening intensity.

When it breaks over me, it's more powerful than the first—a tidal wave that washes away everything but the sensation of Thomas inside me, his body pressed against mine.

"Thomas!" I cry out as my vision whites out at the edges, my entire body convulsing with pleasure.

He follows me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips slamming into mine one final time as he spills himself inside me. I feel him pulsing, his forehead pressed against mine as we both gasp for breath, trembling with the force of our shared release.

For several moments, we remain locked together, our ragged breathing the only sound in the small room. My limbs feel weightless, boneless, as the aftershocks of pleasure continue to ripple through me. Thomas's breath is warm against my neck, his heartbeat thundering against my chest.

"I've got you," he whispers, his voice hoarse as he carefully lowers my feet to the ground. My legs buckle immediately, and I would have slid to the floor if not for his strong arms catching me.

"Sorry," I murmur, a breathless laugh escaping me. "I don't think I can stand."

His eyes, still dark with remnants of desire, soften as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. Without a word, he bends and scoops me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.

“Sleep now,” he murmurs. “I’ll take care of you.”

Despite myself, I believe him.