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Possess Me Slowly (Shattered #2) Page 5
Author: Joya Ryan

“Christ, you’re f**king mouth-watering,” he growled against my skin.

My blood was boiling and satisfaction surging. That was the growl I had been waiting for. No niceties. No polite words. Raw and unchained lust.

His breath danced over my aching core and I arched. Begging him to taste me where I desperately needed him. Instead, he drew away from me and stood. A clanking and rustling noise rang out as he shucked his pants completely and knelt at the foot of the bed. He grabbed the back of my knees and yanked me toward him until my ass was almost entirely hanging off the edge of the mattress. He spread my legs wide and barely brushed his lips over my clit. My hips jolted upward, seeking more.

“You have the prettiest pu**y I’ve ever seen.” He didn’t say anymore. Just tossed my legs over his shoulders and buried his face between my thighs.

His tongue darted out and flicked the tangled bundle of nerves, fast and hard. A hot flush clapped my body and I arched into him.

“Yes!” I gripped the sheets at my side and arched.

“Ah-ah,” his words vibrated against my aching flesh, “remember the rule?”

I looked down and saw those green eyes staring at me, demanding and angry. I was supposed to be touching him. I let go of the sheet and placed my palms tentatively on his head.

A low rumble broke from his chest. He sounded pleased. I had never touched a man’s head while doing this before. It seemed so…erotic.

“Good. Now hang on tight, sweetheart,” he rasped.

His palms slapped down on my thighs and he tugged me even closer to him. There was no other area on him I could reach. I had no choice but to keep my hands where they were.

He licked the entire length of my sex. I wound my fingers in his hair. He seemed to like that. Keeping his intense green gaze on mine, he took another taste. My grip tightened, so he did it again, and again, until he was raining wet flicks over my pu**y, building a fire in my bloodstream.

All inhibitions gone, I pulled his thick hair and dug my heels into his back. I wiggled and moved to try to get him deeper, closer. My entire body was humming and pulsing with liquid nitrogen, the pressure so intense it made my toes tingle. The pleasure was so hot, it felt cold. I was so close…

He released me, quickly grabbed a condom from his discarded pants, rolled it on, and crawled up my body. Adrenalin burst though my veins and lit up every cell. The need to burn this energy and ride him was overwhelming.

I pushed on his chest and he turned to his side. Letting me maneuver him to his back, I straddled his hips. His big c**k jutted between us. I leaned down and cupped his face in my palms like I had at the door when he first kissed me.

Slowing the pace just slightly, I explored his mouth with my tongue, taking laps, followed by little nips of his full bottom lip. He cupped my ass and ground his dick against my clit. It was obvious this man was dominant. Probably never laid back and took anything, but right now, I wanted to show him all I was feeling. Take out my pent-up aggression on the body he was offering. He was the one who asked me up and he was the one who made the move. I was ready to execute the deal.

Never speeding up the kiss, I subtly moved my hips until I was able to position the tip of his c**k at my entrance.

“You know,” I whispered against his mouth, “I think you’re a lovely man, Preston.”

I slammed down on him. My pu**y instantly encasing him and we both cried out. His vice grip encased my hips, fingers digging into the bone.

“Fuck, woman.” His muscles were all bunched and chorded and I ran my fingers down the flanks of well-cut abdomen.

He lifted my body so that just the tip of his c**k was breaching me. His hips shot up just as he pulled me down on him. A sharp gasp burst from my throat.

“You’re so big,” I breathed.

Bracing my weight and sticking to the “constant touch” rule, I pushed on his chest and whipped my hips in his lap. Taking him deep, then stirring until the crown brushed that sensitive spot inside over and over. I was ready to scream from the pleasure.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he grated. The edge of need and vengeance in his voice made my skin prick. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Without severing our connection, he flipped me to my back. He pushed his knees against my thighs, parting them even wider, and thrust again.

“Oh, yes!” I wrapped my legs around him.

He snaked one arm beneath my lower back and pulled me against him. He was rough, deep and ungodly amazing. Every forceful move and sharp thrust was controlled and manipulated so that every nerve ending of his hit mine. The man made love like it was an art and I was falling hard and fast. The burning beneath my bones spread from my core to my fingertips until I couldn’t register anything but him.

His scent. His body. His skin. It was the only thing that existed.

He pumped in and out of me, that thick c**k stretching me more and more each time. He grew harder with every push and retreat. With one arm around my back the other came up to fist the sheets by my head. His slick chest pressed into my br**sts and the feel of our raging heartbeats pounding against each other was almost too much to take.

Weaving his fingers in my hair, he forced my stare to meet his, and silently commanded me not to sever eye contact.

I held on tight. My nails sinking in to his shoulder blades, I kept his gaze.

“Megan…” he whispered my name and for some reason, the tender endearment made my chest hurt and a ping of wetness rise from my tear ducts.

My body erupted. Every atom burst into flames and spiraled from the center of my body to the tips of my toes. I came apart. Yelling his name and begging for more. He gave it. My orgasm was stronger, longer, than any kind of pleasure I’d ever experienced and he drew it out to the edge of the abyss.

When I felt him twitch inside me and the back muscles beneath my palms tighten, it was then I felt it. His release. His grip on me tightened and he buried himself over and over, riding out his own end.

My body was spent and my mind in worse shape than my liquefied bones. Never moving too far away, he pulled out of me and disposed of the condom. I went to sit up, but his arm came around my stomach and snatched me back.

Burrowing his face in the curve of my neck, he fell instantly asleep, holding me like I was something he didn’t want to leave.

Chapter Two

“You look like hell.”

I froze with my heels in one hand, the other on the front door knob to my apartment. It was barely eight AM, and after I had peeled the strong, deliciously smelling, Mr. Suit off me and snuck out of the penthouse, I came straight home to what should have been an empty apartment. “What are you doing home? I thought you had work today.”

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Joya Ryan's Novels
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