Page 18 of Full Out Fiend

“I can’t wait to slam into you. I can’t wait to hear you scream when I make you come a third time.”

Apparently, I can’t wait either, because a second later, I pounce. Leaning forward, I practically attack his chest with kisses, then grip his dick and line him up at my entrance.

A firm hand on my wrist freezes me in place.

“Condom, angel,” he murmurs, sweeping a lock of hair behind my ear tenderly and tilting his head toward the bedside table. “They’re in that drawer.”

I gulp down the lump in my throat. Did I really almost ride him raw—a man I met hours ago, a guy who’s made it clear this is just a one-night thing? I’ll blame it on still being shaken by that nightmare.

Fielding must realize I’m trapped in my own head, because he sits up, his abs tensing beneath me, and reaches over to the nightstand.

“You good?” he asks cautiously, opening the condom wrapper in slow motion, almost as if he’s giving me a chance to change my mind.

“So good,” I reply, mustering up the confidence of the woman I was two minutes ago. The woman who was practically using his dick as her own personal dildo. The woman who almost came just hearing the dirty talk he dished out while he played with her tits.

Fielding rolls on the rubber, and not two seconds later, I’m impaling myself on his cock. I roll my hips forward once, closing my eyes and relishing the thickness of him filling me up so completely. Before I can move again, he cups my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Put your feet flat, Daphne.”

His words are authoritative, and I don’t even question it, just follow his command, awkwardly maneuvering my legs so I’m squatting over his hips with my feet planted on the mattress.

When I sink onto his length this time, he firmly grips my sides, supporting my ass and pushing me down harder—deliciously harder—before lifting me up and slamming me back down.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts—whether in pleasure or from effort, I don’t know. Together we find a fast, brutal pace. He uses his strength to drive me up and down on his dick while I succumb to nothing but everything.

Because that’s what this is.

His support. His dominance. The way he’s transformed this night into this intimate, inimitable experience. It’s everything.

He lifts and lowers my body over and over again, the warmth in my core crawling up my stomach, heating my neck, flushing my face.

“Fuck,” he grunts a minute later. “I can’t keep this up.”

I freeze, prickles of embarrassment poking at the bubble of bliss that’s inflated inside me.

“I’m already close. You feel way too good, angel. We’ve gotta switch things up.”

Relief—and another wave of arousal—courses through me.

“Why don’t you turn around and let me watch that ass bounce while you ride me?” he grunts, huffing out a breath and shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his mind.

I eagerly climb off, turn, straddle him again, and sink onto his dick. We groan in unison, and he grabs my waist, squeezing my hips and kneading his fingers into my ass.

“Daphne,” he murmurs.

I glance over my shoulder without hesitation.

“Straddle just one of my legs and grind on me, angel. I can’t reach your clit in this position.”

Oh. Yes. Thatisimportant.

I pull one leg in, keeping him buried inside me as he bends his knee and pulls his thigh closer to where our bodies connect.

As soon as we make contact, I’m home.

“Fuck, yes. Oh fuck. That feels amazing.”

I can’t help the words that tumble out of my mouth—shock, awe, praise.