What she could make sense of was the fact that once this was finished, he would own her.
Her breath caught, fear edging at the boundary of pleasure . . .
“Oh God. Rule.” She cried out his name as that wide crest of his cock pressed against the tender entrance he’d prepared so carefully.
“That’s it, baby, so sweet and hot,” he groaned as virgin flesh began parting, stretching with such incredible heat that Gypsy found herself trembling in anticipation as the snug, tightly stretched entrance rippled at the intensity of sensation. “So fucking mine.” His teeth were at her shoulder, raking the little mark he’d left there, scraping it with his teeth. “Feel me, Gypsy. Feel me, inside all of you.”
He was inside all of her.
A scream tore from her throat.
Sensation rushed through her like a firestorm of rich, thick lava. She flooded with not just her pleasure, but his. Bound by not just the velvet emotion he was wrapping around her, but also the tightly woven threads that led from him to her. From her to him.
“Rule, please . . .” she cried out, her voice hoarse as she shuddered at each sensation. The wide, brutal heat of his cock sinking in where she’d never imagined she’d allow a man to take her sent her senses spinning.
It was just as sensual, just as exciting as she heard it could be, with none of the feelings of degradation or repulsive control she’d feared it could hold.
What it held was her submission, and it was complete.
That realization swept over her as the heavy length pushed deeper, the blunt head of his erection easing that tighter, more sensitive ring of muscles deep inside her anus wide enough to take him fully. As the head popped past the last barrier, he buried himself completely inside the tight channel to the hilt before pausing, before letting her know what he had done.
“Rule.” She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t cry.
The sound was rough, the sob that hitched her breath something she hadn’t heard from herself in so many years.
And she was terribly certain she might become scared. There was something about being impaled in such a way, taken with such intimacy that was shattering something inside her.
“I have you, Gypsy.” His lips pressed to that mark and pleasure clenched every muscle further, strained her already ragged defenses. “You held yourself for nine years, baby. Every day, every dark lonely night that I was too fucking stubborn to claim you.” He licked the little wound then and she felt the muscles gripping him suddenly tighten with the wave of sensation that rushed through her senses. “I’m here now, baby. You don’t have to be brave by yourself anymore, Gypsy.”
Brave?
She jerked in his arms, crying out as she felt the final wall between them beginning to fall. His hips moved with easy, powerful movements as he fucked her with such elemental eroticism that it was impossible to fight.
The feel of the broad length of his cock impaling her anus, shuttling back and forth across nerve endings never before stroked in such a way, inflamed her senses.
“I think I don’t want this.” Her fingers clenched tighter on the blankets beneath her as he began moving, small, shallow thrusts that began to heighten each sensation in the heated, oversensitive flesh to the point she had to fight to remember what it was she might not want.
“Sure?” His voice was a croon, heavy, indolent with wicked, sensual intent and primal demand as his thrusts began to lengthen, to increase. “Are you sure you don’t just want this, baby? Are you sure both of us don’t fucking need it?”
His teeth tightened on the mark, his tongue stroking over it, easing any fear, heightening the pleasure, the erotic need pulsing through her.