“Please, Connor,” she gasped. “Move. Fuck me. Do something.”

“Christ,” he muttered. “I’m going to come, baby. Give me just a minute to calm down. I want to make this good for you, not get inside you and be done within two minutes.”

She laughed softly and stroked her hands over his back, up the column of his neck and then into his hair. She was everywhere, touching, caressing. She curled her legs around his waist and arched into him, trying to get him deeper. As if that were possible. He was already balls deep, pressed so tight against her ass that it would take a crowbar to separate them.

“Relax,” he whispered. “I’ll make it good for you. Let me love you. Let me show you how good it can be with someone who cares for you.”

She went so still that he worried he’d crossed some invisible line. She looked—for lack of a better word—lost.

Worried he’d lose her, he kissed a line to her jaw and then nibbled over to her lips before sealing his mouth over hers. He was consumed by her. He had to be careful or he’d devour her. He had to pace himself and measure his kisses. She just tasted so good that he lacked control.

Raising his hands to frame her face, he pulled back just an inch or so and then thrust again as he claimed her mouth once more.

Their tongues slipped over each other, exploring and tasting. He began moving, withdrawing and thrusting, slowly at first and then harder and faster as he finally managed to leash the raging caveman inside who just wanted to claim his woman, mark her and slake his lust endlessly.

Oh yeah, he could do this all night.

Touching her. Tasting her. Getting so deep inside her that she couldn’t shake him. He wanted her to believe in him. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted a lot of damn things.

He wanted to wrap himself around her so tight that nothing or no one could ever get to her or hurt her. He wanted to be her refuge.

His mouth slipped from hers and glanced over her cheek to her ear and then down her neck, kissing and sucking. He hadn’t given her any sort of foreplay but he couldn’t even muster the regret he should. She’d been sleek and ready for him. Hot and damp. So fucking tight that he thought he’d die getting inside her.

“Connor,” she whispered. “I’m close. I can’t hold back.”

He closed his eyes. Damn, but he didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t done anything to ensure her pleasure. He’d gone after her like a rutting pig. Pinned her to the mattress and held her down while he got inside her.

It took everything he had, but he pulled out of her. His cock screamed hell no. She let out a whimper of protest. He kissed her belly and then dropped to his knees between her thighs. He was determined to make her feel every bit as good as he did.

Her pussy was swollen from his invasion. The soft pink lips were spread and her opening was red and distended from his size. Damn, but she was sexy.

He pressed his mouth to the opening. She flinched and let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Then he swept his tongue over and then pushed in until he tasted the very heart of her.

She went satiny sweet in his mouth. Like liquid silk.

Her legs came up and looped over his shoulders, squeezing his head and holding it in place. She pulsed against his mouth. Shudder after shudder rolled through her body. She lifted her hips but he grasped them and held them in place for his seeking mouth.

He tongued her clit, rolling the tip in a tight circle and then sucking softly at the quivering peak. She was as tight as a bow at full draw, her thighs rigid on his shoulders.

“Connor,” she said softly. So sweetly it was like music over his ears. “Connor,” she said again on a sigh.

He rose and stared down at her half-lidded eyes, glazed with passion and yearning. She was sprawled out like a feast before him and he ate her with his eyes.

Then he reached and flipped her over until she was facedown on the mattress. She turned her head so that her cheek rested against the mattress and she closed her eyes as if anticipating where he’d take her next.

He cupped her plump behind and kneaded the soft flesh, pushing and spreading so that her pussy was bared. He pulled until she was bent over the edge and then he pushed into her from behind, his abdomen pressing into her as he stroked deep.

Man, he loved her like this. His hands left her ass and smoothed up her delicate spine to her shoulders, and then he gripped her neck and thrust again, pulling her to meet his forceful thrusts.

He leaned down until his body was completely covering hers. Protecting. Sheltering. Completely blanketing her. Then he began fucking in and out, the sounds of his hips slapping against her ass rising in the silent room.

She moaned and stretched her arms out above her head as if surrendering completely to his dominance. He nipped at her shoulder, lightly at first and then harder.

He wanted to own her. He wanted to put his mark on her, to let her know she belonged to him. No one else. No other man would touch her. No other man would possess what he considered his.

She may not know it yet, but he was it for her. It was going to require patience. He was a patient guy when the reward was high.

She was going to be the biggest challenge of his life, but he was up to it. He wasn’t going to fail.

She was his.

He lowered his body until his chest was flush with her back. She was cupped perfectly to him and he moved both their bodies as he stroked in and out in long, lazy thrusts.

Over and over he made his point, driving her so close to orgasm and then stilling as she moved restlessly beneath him, trying to make him take her over the edge. He waited and then began all over again, pushing into her, feeling the exquisite sensation of her pussy clutching at him.

“You’re mine, Lyric,” he whispered next to her ear. And then he thrust hard and deep and began pumping against her with renewed urgency.

He planted his palms on either side of her and levered himself up so that he could power more forcefully into her.

She cried out and went slick around him so that he glided with ease so deep, into the very heart of her. Faster. Harder.

Mindlessly he kept thrusting, even when her entire body went rigid and his name spilled from her lips over and over.

He chased one orgasm from her and went after another. Relentless. Wanting her to know who she belonged to. Who commanded her body and her pleasure.

She begged and pleaded. More. Stop. Don’t stop. Oh God. Again.

“Connor!”

Her fingers curled into fists above her, and she raised her head and pushed back against him as another orgasm raced through her body, igniting fire within him.

“Oh God, I’m coming. Baby. You feel so good. Come with me, Lyric.”

He swelled within her, so tight he could barely move even after she’d come twice and her moisture bathed him. He withdrew and rolled her over roughly, spreading her legs and mounting her again, this time face-to-face. He wanted to see her. He wanted to drown in her eyes while he finally came.

He plunged deep. Withdrew and then plunged one last time. She wrapped herself around him. Arms, legs. She raised her head and buried it in his neck.

He came apart. It was the most gut-wrenching orgasm of his life. He couldn’t be still. He kept thrusting and thrusting, like he was about to come out of his skin. He came and came, and he worried about the condom but he couldn’t stop.

She held him, stroking her hands over his back, clutching at him with her legs, pulling him deeper until there was no separation between them.

He slumped down over her, embedded deeply in her pussy as the last of his release tore from his body. He sucked in deep breaths. His entire body shook. He couldn’t catch up. Couldn’t process the magnitude of what he’d just felt. It was earth-shattering. Weren’t women supposed to be the ones who came undone during sex? He’d never felt so damn vulnerable in his life.