The flare of heat in his gaze could have seared the planet.
She yanked his hair, the implacable demand clawing at her required action. “Move, subbie. Now.”
“Fuck, yes, Ma’am.” He was over her in an instant and thrust in, powerful and fast.
Holy fucking Jes—Goddess. The top of Ben’s head almost shot off. Anne was hot and slick—and tight enough to make him almost come on entry. With a rigid grip on his control, he managed to stop before full penetration to let her adjust to his size.
Some women couldn’t ever take him to the hilt.
But Anne? Face still flushed from her climax, she was smiling with pleasure. At his lack of movement, she opened her eyes and the heat in them burned his skin. “Guard dog, did you stop for a reason? Now, now, now.”
She sure didn’t need to tell him twice.
As he pressed in, his hands dug into her hips as he struggled for control. Jesus, she felt good. With a groan, he tried to slow, fought to keep from hurting her. He felt the resistance as her cunt stretched around him, and then he was… “Fuck!”
He pulled out, appalled at himself. “Need protection, Ma’am.”
Her eyes widened, and her expression held the same shock as his.
“I fucked up.” Tensely, he waited for her to rake him over the coals. Deservedly, too. It was a man’s job to protect the woman. Always.
“Well, I haven’t forgotten that essential since I was in college.” She met his eyes. “I’m sorry—and I can see you are as well. We both messed up.” She rubbed his shoulder. “I’m on birth control pills.”
Per Shadowlands requirements, she’d also be tested routinely for STDs. He offered his own reassurance. “I get tested right along with the members. I’m clean.”
“Good enough.” With a wave of her hand, she indicated the left. “Bedside drawer.”
That was it? No yelling? Both of them were slaphappy with lack of sleep, but he should be thumped for screwing up. Only…he had to appreciate her calmness and how she’d shouldered part of the blame herself. She was as classy down deep as she was on the surface.
Reaching over, he yanked the bedside table drawer out, finding condoms as well as toys that—if he hadn’t thought she’d hurt him—he’d have explored further. Instead, he grabbed a packet, ripped it open, and covered himself. “Let’s try this again.”
He stroked her hips with his hand, ran a finger through her folds…still drenched for him and damn he liked that bare look. Parting her gently, he established his landing zone—and took her with one aggressive assault. Sheathed or not, his cock was in heaven.
She inhaled fast, and he could feel her cunt around him, throbbing, gripping him in a mercilessly slick fist.
He’d wanted her for so long—he wasn’t going to last long. Grinding his teeth, he paused. Should he be doing something—anything else?
Her eyes opened. One dimple showed. “Mmm, lovely.” Her words were so throaty she could make a man come with her voice alone. “Did you stop for a reason?”
Damn, she was something. “Um. Aside from hammering you into the bed, can I do anything else?”
Amusement danced in her eyes. “No, Benjamin. That will be sufficient.” She’d sound elegant even in the middle of a firefight.
And he had a go order. Oh, yeah. He pulled back, pressed in, feeling the nothing-equals-this slide of his cock inside a tight cunt. His next thrust was harder, his next one harder still.
Her eyes closed. Her lips curved, making her cheekbones sharper. She was obviously enjoying his size—and wasn’t that a hell of a turn-on?
“Okay, Mistress, I got you,” he muttered. With deep, driving thrusts, he took her, filled her, and joined them together. And she gave back, running her hands over his shoulders, curling a leg behind his ass and lifting herself to him.
He took her soft lips, tilted his pelvis enough to graze her clit, and felt her fingers clutch his arms and her hips push up to meet him. Her face flushed a deeper red.
And then she came, the beauty of it such that he lost himself and realized far too late that his cock had a mind of its own. The buffeting spasms around his shaft sent him spiraling out of control, and then the pile driver of his own climax slammed into him, pulsing in her welcoming heat with searing bolts of pleasure.
Bending his neck, he kissed her shoulder and reveled in the sensations.
“Well.” A while later, she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks pink, her skin slightly damp. She wasn’t the cool Mistress at the moment. “That was an excellent way to celebrate a new birth.” Her voice was as deep as Lauren Bacall’s throaty contralto. “Thank you, Ben.”