His Gift 3(16)

With him inside me, I felt complete somehow. Whole. It was as though I had never been satisfied before, and nothing could ever satisfy me again. Nothing except this.

He held me in his arms, waiting until the waves of my orgasm had subsided. I was breathless, gasping ragged breaths from the air.

“Oh, my beautiful. My Lacey,” he said. He pressed a tender kiss to me. That was the last tender motion, and then I shifted beneath him and his eyes turned wild.

Jake rolled into me again and did not stop, his body shuddering mine with his thrusts. The rhythm grew faster and faster as he thrust into me again and again. I could feel the pressure inside me building even then, even as the thrills of my last orgasm were waning.

My hands scrambled at the canvas underneath me, but the paint there was wet and there was nothing to hold on to. I gripped Jake’s shoulders and twined my legs around him to try and hold on as tightly as I could. Moaning, I matched his rhythm, rocking my hips up to meet him.

“Oh Jesus, Lacey,” he said. His hair hung over his face. I put one hand to his cheek. His skin was hot, moist with sweat. His eyes drilled holes into me.

“Harder,” I whispered.

Before the word was out of my mouth, he’d gripped me into his strong arms and thrust again. I screamed as he jackhammered his cock into me, slamming into my flesh over and over again. My nerves were exploding with pleasure and I held onto him, my body clenching tight around his shaft. He was hard as rock. His body crashed into mine, unraveling any last resistance I might have had.

My body was uncontrollable now, my hair tossing in the wet paint, my hands scratching at his back. He thrust into me over and over again in a raw, primal rhythm that sent me higher, higher, until I was standing at the precipice looking over into the abyss. I closed my eyes and saw stars.

Then he took me over the edge, fucking me hard and raw, fucking me with wild abandon. Rutting like animals, we rolled over each other, clawing at skin. He kissed me and the kiss turned into a bite, and then his teeth were on my shoulder and I was spasming in his arms.

There was nothing left of me, Lacey. There was nothing left of the girl who had walked into this place. There was only need, a sharp hot need, and as my orgasm ripped through me I disappeared and all that was left was pure sensation, hands and mouths and the waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

Another spasm went through my body and then I felt him jerk once and still over me. He moaned, a thick noise in his throat, and his hot seed spilled inside of me. I pulled his mouth to mine and shuddered once more with him as we spent our last climax together.





Chapter Eleven



I lay my head back against the hard canvas, gasping for air. After the orgasm’s last throes had faded, Jake rolled to his side. I let out a soft sigh as he withdrew, his cock sliding slowly out of me. My body grasped for him, clenching, and then relaxed.

He clasped me to his side, and in his arms I breathed easily. He held me as though I was some delicate, fragile thing, cradling me softly. There was no hint of the man who had thrust hard and fast into my body, no whisper of the man who had bit down on my shoulder as he came, groaning and hard, into my core.

There was only him.

As I breathed in deeply, my chest rose and fell. I felt myself relaxing. A week of sleeping as long as I wanted to, a week of painting my heart’s desire—and now this.

He’d taken me in completely, taken me completely. But it was only now that I felt his outer walls crumbling down, letting me into his private world.

“Lacey,” he said. His thumb tilted my chin up, and I looked into his deeply concerned eyes.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Are you alright?”

I burst out laughing, and if he hadn’t been holding me so tightly I would have rolled over the floor in laughter. He looked at me curiously until I had stopped. I wiped a tear of laughter from my eyes.

“Seriously? You kidnapped me, blindfolded me… you’ve been using hot wax and chains and whips on me, and now is the first time you think to ask me if I’m alright?”

“Well, I—”

“I’m fine. That’s your answer. No, I’m more than fine. I’m thrilled.”

“Thrilled?”

“Yes, that’s the word,” I said, placing both of my hands on his broad chest. “You thrill me in every way. It started with the elevator.”

“The elevator?”

I nodded primly.

“I was scared to death of that thing. It made my stomach do somersaults. And then your art collection—”

“You can’t be thrilled by a bunch of paintings.”

“I can and I am. And they’re yours.” I poked him in the chest, remembering the revelation that had led to all of this.