He was still staring down at me when he frowned. “Fuck, you’re tight…you okay?”
I nodded, forcing the water back behind my eyes. “You’re just big. Give me a minute?”
He remained still inside me. He bent and kissed my lips, slow, soft. When I arched into him, I felt his cock slide against a tender spot deep inside me. A ping of pleasure raced through me.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
He withdrew, and pounded again.
“Adam!” He hit the end of my sex—that spot—again. A shiver started deep in my chest, rose to the surface, and broke over my skin.
He gripped my hips and tilted them up, sinking even deeper. I threw my bound hands over his head and gripped the back of his neck. I didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted him as close as I could get him, so I locked my legs around his back and rocked against him. He stirred his hips, the crown of his cock sliding against my sensitive flesh inside over and over. He didn’t withdraw. Didn’t thrust. He ground against me, and I against him.
This was incredible. Adrenaline soared and emotions fired. The need to cry rushed through me, misting my eyes. It was everything I could do to keep the tears at bay. The power of the moment, of Adam inside me, was overwhelming.
We were connected. I felt safe, like nothing could touch me or hurt me, as long as he was a part of me. Still, I wanted more. I couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t get him deep enough. He bent his head and sucked my nipple. I came instantly. Fire raced over my skin and my blood turned to magma, slowly burning me from the inside out. My sheath flexed and released around his cock.
“I feel you.” He kissed my lips hard. “Feel your sweet pussy milking me.”
He rolled over to his back and took me with him. With my legs straddling his hips, he sat up.
He tangled one hand in my hair while his other arm secured me tightly around the top of my ass. Then he thrust upward. With my recent orgasm wetting me further, he slid in and out without discomfort.
All of his cut abdominal muscles rubbed against my torso. I loved feeling his body tighten with his movements. My bound hands were still locked behind his head. Our bodies slickened with sweat as he continued to piston in and out of me. I looked down at his handsome face. His eyes were blazing. So icy hot they almost looked crystalline. I rested my forehead against his and my whole body relaxed. Another orgasm crept up on me. I gave myself up to it.
Adam groaned and his arms tightened around me, as if understanding I was giving up. Giving in. To him.
I came again. The slow blaze of pleasure consumed me like liquid flames drowning my bloodstream. His body tensed and I felt the large cock inside me twitch.
“Fuck, Katelyn,” he grated. Though he had a condom on, I felt his release. The force of it made his whole body shake around mine.
We were both breathing hard. My head lolled and rested on his shoulder while my arms hung limply, still bound behind his neck. Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I hadn’t known it could be like this. This kind of intensity was what I’d seen in Adam’s eyes the moment I met him. I wanted to latch on to it—to him—and never let go.
He had shattered me. Any plan or idea I had about controlling myself, or my emotions, was gone. I could only hope that he’d catch all the pieces he’d broken and put me back together.
Chapter Eight
I woke up to the sun piercing though the window, blinding me. My body was sore in places that I didn’t know existed. But it was a good kind of sore.
My dress was still bunched around my waist, my breasts and thighs exposed. I ran my fingers over my eyes and sat up in bed. My wrists weren’t tied anymore, but there was a light red mark left from where I’d pulled against the panties that bound me.
A small smile flickered when I thought of last night. I looked around my room and it struck me how clean it was.
Just as it had been…had always been.
No clothes were strung around the room. My panties were nowhere to be seen. It was still. Quiet. Cold.
As if nothing had ever happened and no one had ever been there.
I threw the blankets back and—
“Oh, God.” There in the middle of my sheets was a bloodstain. Evidence of my virginity lost. Evidence Adam must have seen. I felt the color drain from my face as embarrassment set in.
Anxiety climbed up my spine, and my hands began shaking. Terror dug between every vertebra like sharp claws sinking into cold butter. Panic was rising—soon it would flare out of control. I tried to breathe, attempting to keep the icy grip of reality away.
I rushed to the living room.
Adam’s coat was gone.
That breath I was trying to take caught in my throat. I hadn’t expected breakfast in bed or a declaration of feelings, but…