Page 89 of The Price of Scandal

“Fuck,” he snarled. He whirled me around, his grip bruising. I decided to worry about how much I liked it later. His shirt was open but still on. I shoved it off his shoulders as he backed me toward the bed.

“Pants, Price.”

He maintained a grip on my arm and used his free hand to shove his pants down. His underwear, bold red briefs, were rolled down under the proud jut of his erection. The mattress caught the back of my legs, and Derek was falling with me, covering me.

“I want you in my mouth,” I whispered.

“Not this time, Emily.” He dipped down and latched on to one nipple.

I curled my fingers into the sheets, white-knuckling my grip on the world.

He sucked harder, my hips bowing up off the mattress. I needed to feel him against me. I wanted to guide the blunt crown of his cock through my slit. I wanted so much I was afraid one human being couldn’t satisfy the magnitude of need.

“Hold still, love.” His voice was rough and low.

I flexed at the brush of his cock as he lined it up against me. The tip, that glorious blunt tip kissed my core. My breath was coming in pants, and Derek had me skewered with an intense, fiery gaze. It was too late. I knew this wasn’t going to be some quick screw to blow off steam or just to get off.

This was something else entirely. Something I wasn’t prepared for.

He fed his cock into me inch by luxurious inch. Big. Too big, I realized. But there was something else besides the wicked burn as I struggled to accommodate him. Something so darkly satisfying about feeling every ridge and vein of this thick shaft.

Exquisitely full.

He groaned. Agony. Ecstasy. Both were delicately intertwined in the moment that Derek Price hit bottom inside me.

We trembled while he held there, my knees pinned wide open as his hips settled between my legs.

He was bare. There’d been no condom. And I wanted to regret it. I’d been conditioned to regret it. But thisfeeling. This sleek, wet slide as he slowly dragged himself out of my body was too good to regret.

“It’s so good it hurts,” I whispered.

“Exactly,” he answered, pressing his lips to my throat. “Exactly right.”

Slowly, he slid back in, this time lifting my hips and adjusting. I hadn’t taken him all before. But this time I did. The pain and inexplicable pleasure married in an experience I knew I’d never forget.

“I can’t tell you how good you feel, Emily.”

I dug my nails into his bare back, raking his skin. I urged him with my hips, encouraging him to go a little faster. Take me a little farther. Hurt me a little more.

“Show me,” I urged him.

I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down to kiss me, and then we were rolling. Shallow thrusts as we moved from back to side to back. I came out on top, and the sensation of sliding down his cock, of filling myself with him, made my eyes roll back in my head.

It was too much.

Derek reared up and wrapped his arms around me.

He closed his mouth on my breast, and I began to ride. Sweat glistened on our skin. Whispered words and hot breath. Hard mouths. Thirsty tongues met and tangled. I needed this. I needed him. He held my hips, helping me set a new pace, his cock piercing me every time I lowered onto it.

“So fucking good,” he groaned.

I dug my fingers into his shoulders and held on for dear life. We were intertwined, connected, united. The feel of his bare cock stretching my inner walls was too much.

“Derek. I’m coming,” I warned him.

“Give it over, love. Give it to me.”

He whispered dark, dirty promises and prayers in my ear as I rocked my hips into him. I whimpered when he pushed a little deeper, and that was it. That was enough. It exploded inside me.