Her hips eased up, then bore back down; the slick, hot juices filling the fist-tight depths of her cunt aided the impalement but did nothing to ease the clenched, snug grip she had on him. Her flesh milked the head of his cock, stroked the throbbing shaft and sucked at his dick until he wanted to blow immediately. His balls were drawn so tight with the need to come that he was amazed he was holding back.
Slow and easy she took him. An inch at a time sank inside her, eased back, only to have her take him deeper. With each slow movement of her hips a little cry escaped her lips; the sound filled with her need for him, with the pleasure he was giving her.
And he could feel her pleasure. It wrapped around every sense he possessed until he couldn’t tell where her pleasure ended and his own sensations began. He’d never known sex like this. Never known it could be like this. So fucking intimate as the pleasure buried so deep inside emotions he hadn’t known he had, until he knew he’d never survive if he lost her.
With each thrust and impalement, each shift of her hips and broken cries that fell from her lips, Rule felt himself slipping deeper into the morass of sensations whipping over his body. Tension began to tighten his muscles as pleasure became an imperative need for release that sent heat streaking to every nerve ending in his body.
Until he couldn’t bear it. Until the need to pound inside her, to push them both into the raging ecstasy building inside him, broke the last of the control he possessed.
Muscles bunching, he moved quickly. Without pulling from her, he had her on her back, legs spread, silken arms and legs surrounding him as he began to fuck her with deep, hammering strokes that had them both exploding with a power that caused Rule to snarl with primitive dominance as the overpowering need to grip her neck with his teeth again, to bite and hold her in place, overtook him.
And God, the pleasure.
He was immersed in her.
Her pleasure, her release and his own, in the wild chaos of a sensual storm he couldn’t hope to control. In that moment, as the barb extended, became erect and locked him inside her, he realized he was being softened by her. Changed and overtaken by this one small woman with far too many secrets.
And he was all too aware that in too many ways, he was weakened by her.
CHAPTER 23
It was full noon before Gypsy awoke again, her senses clearer, her anger no longer simmering but fully cemented, and the independent streak that her brother had often declared was a mile wide hardened painfully inside her.
As she opened her eyes and stared around the still-dim bedroom, the narrow shafts of sunlight that spilled from behind her reflected on the wall across from her. They were mocking reminders that the danger of losing everything she cherished was staring her in the face.
Her choices, her ability to live as she chose, her very independence was in danger of being taken away from her. Even in the nine years that she had steadily become one of the Unknown’s best contacts, she had never endangered her life or risked her cover. She’d never had to fear her freedom or her independence.
Until now.
Rule had denied her the chance to leave the night before without so much as an explanation or the opportunity to argue her point. She’d seen it in his gaze. He hadn’t been willing to hear an argument, his mind was set.
She was going nowhere.
Gypsy was determined to show him differently at the first opportunity.
But first, as much as it offended her pride and sense of fair play, she would have to let him think he’d won. Besides, she needed answers first. Before she escaped him, she needed to know exactly the effects she would experience once she separated herself from him.
Exactly how factual were the gossip rags where this phenomenon was concerned?
Staring up at the ceiling, with the sheet Rule had pulled over them sometime in the night held snugly over her breasts as the heat of his big body braced her back, she considered exactly how to broach the subject. Because she could feel the stiffness of his erection against her lower back, and the answering ache building between her thighs. And God knew she wanted nothing more than to rub against him like a cat and feel that iron-hard flesh pressing into her and overtaking her. But a woman had to draw the line somewhere.