Losing Control (21 page)

He retreats, sliding back until he’s nearly left me, and then drills me hard against the bed.

“Oh God, yes, fuck me,” I cry out.

My eyeballs roll back into my head as his balls slap my body as he plunges inside me. My back is almost entirely off the bed as he uses both hands to pull me against him. His feet are braced wide apart, and the force of his propulsion would have driven me across to the other side of the bed if it weren’t for his hands clamped hard around my hips. I drum the heels of my feet against his back, trying to urge him closer. He lifts one knee onto the bed and braces an elbow by my arm, still pistoning his hips against me in a relentless rhythm. My blood is roaring in my ears, and I can’t hear a thing but the harshness of our breaths and the slick sound of our sexes battering against one another.

I’ve never felt so full.

Need. Want. Desire. Passion.

They are all one.

It is flesh against flesh.

He is steel with an iron resolve, a man who is intent on delivering one thing: pleasure.

The rapturous feeling of my climax hits almost unexpectedly, and as I convulse around him I feel his body tremble beneath my hands as he follows me down into the well of ecstasy. Our mutual pleasure shakes the bed and the very foundation of my life. I bite my tongue to keep the words of love and devotion from spilling out of me.

Collapsing against me, his chest heaving with his exertion, his next words echo in my heart. “I’ll never have enough of you.”

H
E
KISSES
ME
GENTLY
,
AND
his wicked hands provide comfort instead of stimulation as he cradles me tenderly against him. One hand slides slowly over my back to palm my butt, but the touch isn’t provocative. It’s sweet and pulls at me with as much emotion as the vigorous bed play we’d shared.

When my shudders die off, my brain starts working again and all my questions resurface. I can’t go on without knowing more about everything. Pulling away from his seductive mouth, I sweep a finger across his dark brows and trace down the side of his face and along his strong jaw. I avoid his gaze even though I feel the weight of it, preferring to watch my finger as it marks a path along Ian’s skin.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice is lower than usual and the rough, gravely sound makes me clench my legs together. In response, he squeezes my bottom.

“I’m trying to sort everything out.” It’s a vague but truthful answer. He leans forward to place a light kiss on my nose before rolling off the bed.

“Hold that thought,” he says. His ass muscles clench as he walks toward an adjoining bathroom, and I prop my head up so I can fully enjoy the show. He returns only moments later and slides into bed, pulling me into his arms. “What is it that you need sorted? Us? The project?”

“All of it,” I say. His arm is tucked under my neck, and I rest my head on one well-defined pectoral muscle. He tugs me closer so that I’m pressed up against his side with nowhere for my limbs to go but on top of his.

“It’s pretty simple.” I feel him shrug lightly beneath me. “You’re becoming very important to me. Maybe even vital.”

The words he utters are ones that I haven’t ever heard spoken to me. My high school boyfriend told me he loved me, but no one other than my mother has ever viewed me as important or vital because I’ve never been that person. I get by fine but I feel forgettable most of the time, so it confuses me that this wealthy, attractive man wants me more than one of the tens of thousands of smarter, prettier women that exist in the city. I’m not going to give voice to these insecurities, though, because I didn’t realize that they even existed before Ian.

Before he came along, I dated. I had sex. But his words make me realize that I’d been missing something.
Important and vital.
It kind of makes me want to cry. “What aren’t you with a model? Or celebrity or some rich socialite?”

“Rather than you?”

I’ll need to keep my mouth shut to do a better job of hiding my crazy. I bury my face into his chest to hide the burn of embarrassment, but it’s a question I’m dying to know the answer to.

“You’re quite beautiful, Tiny. And it’s not your looks. Anyone can buy those. They can buy a firm body or decent nose. Reshape their lips, install bigger breasts. But your spirit is what sets you apart. Your devotion to your mother. Your willingness to sacrifice for another. Your quick mind and,” he pauses and slips a hand between my thighs, lightly teasing my pussy, “I fucking love your body.”

The light touch causes a hitch in my breath and it’s a moment before I can continue. “But you seem to be enjoying the bachelor life, right? I mean, look at this place.” I wave a hand around. “You’re rich and handsome and could be enjoying a different girl every night.”

“Bunny.” He
tsks
. “I’d appreciate a little respect. I am not and never have been interested in meaningless sex. And plenty of rich men have wives.”

Wives? That’s a word that makes my heart stutter. “So you’re like a serial monogamist?”

“Do you think I’m unable to form a commitment?”

“It’s that you don’t have to commit, right? You can enjoy all the lovely fruit from the tree because if you tire of it, there’s always more orchards to explore.”

He laughs at my stupid analogy. “What about me? Why would you be interested in me rather than some nice young man who has no vendettas and doesn’t require you to engage in subterfuge? I know it’s not about the money for you. Should I be afraid of a wandering eye? I am several years older than you.”

“Really?”

“Didn’t Google me?”

It’s an offhand remark and I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but the casual question strikes at the core of my insecurities. I don’t Google because I’m not comfortable reading. I’m not smart. Or at least, not book smart and I never will be. For someone like Ian who trades in millions of dollars a day, he must be super smart. Ultimately, that’s what I can’t wrap my head around. Why would someone like Ian be with a dummy like me? “I don’t use the computer much,” I say dully.

Ian abruptly sits up and pulls me onto his lap so that we are facing each other, my knees on either side of his hips. His hardening cock is between us, looking ready to go again, but he ignores it. Framing my face with his two hands, he looks straight into my eyes. “You’re a bright woman. I admire how fast your brain works. It doesn’t matter to me in the slightest that you have problems reading or writing. That’s not the measure of who you are. Can you even doubt how amazing I find you? You have a real handicap, but you don’t let it slow you down and it doesn’t beat you down either.”

I press my lips together because any minute now I’m going to start crying. A bit of wetness forms at the outsides of my eyes and Ian thumbs it away. “I can see my future in your eyes, Tiny.”

His hands palm my ass and he pulls me flush against his burgeoning cock. “And I want to be inside you for at least fifty percent of that time.”

“Already?”

“We’ve waited a long time for you. Weeks. I’m going to have to fuck you for a good twenty-four hours straight before my cock is appeased.” He curves one side of his mouth up in a roguish grin.

“Since you put it so elegantly . . .” I tease, high on the words he’s said. I lift my hips so that I can rub against him properly, which has the added benefit of scraping my nipples against his coarse chest hair.

“Wait a second, don’t you have anything that you want to say to me?” He quirks an eyebrow up.

I hum a few bars of the 1970s song made popular by David Cassidy that my mom loved to sing.
I think I love you.
Ian looks at me and then when the lyrics come to him, he throws his head backward and lets out a belly shaking laugh.

“One of these days you’ll feel comfortable saying it out loud, but I’ll definitely be changing your ringtone tomorrow.”

With that he tumbles me onto the bed and proceeds to work me over . . . thoroughly. His mouth is heated and demanding, asking for surrender and giving me back power in the same breath.

“Lie back,” I order. I want to be in charge this time.

Ian obliges me and places his hands behind his head, looking like an indolent god. His naked form
is
beautiful. It’s not just the hardness of his abdomen or the obvious muscles in his chest and arms. It’s the contrasts that make him stand out.

He has physical strength but a tender touch. The dark brown of his hair is set off by lightly tanned skin and a white, even smile. His neck is strong yet elegant. His thighs look powerful yet they’ve cradled me. And his cock? His cock is the biggest contrast of all.

So smooth and soft yet so firm, with interesting ridges and veins. Leaning over, I lick him from root to tip with the flat of my tongue.

He releases a strangled laugh. “I didn’t wear you out, did I?”

“I’m just getting started.” I grin. I reapply myself, taking his broad head into my mouth and working my tongue against him. Right under his head is a sweet spot, super sensitive, and I tease it until he flinches against me.

There’s something wonderful about having him surround me like this, of breathing in his scent and feeling him swell in my mouth. His control isn’t as easily held onto, as evidenced by the way his fingers grab the rumpled sheets and his thighs quiver from his effort to keep from orgasming.

He wants to rip me off him and plunge inside me but is willing to wait…for now. Crouching on my knees between his legs, I cup his sac in one hand and grasp the base of his cock with the other. With my mouth, I set a quick pace of swallowing and sucking and gripping him in long, unbroken movements along his length.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Fuck, yeah.”

His breath is harsh above me, a nearly wracking sound as he heaves for air. Beneath me, his body tenses and I prepare for him to shoot down my throat. I’m aching for the taste of him and the feel of his release as he comes.

But before he reaches climax, his hands clamp around my upper arms and he throws me off. I land on my belly next to him, and he’s on me before my next breath. His hand finds my clit and rolls the small, sensitive flesh between his fingers. Breath searing my neck, he says, “I’m coming in your hot pussy tonight. All night.”

I shudder at his raw words. He pushes my hips up and attacks me with his mouth. His rough shadowed beard abrades my tender skin as he uses his entire face to make love to me. I arch into him, wanting more pressure. He is making me throb everywhere. In my neck, along my wrists, in the base of my feet.

He dips his fingers just inside, as a goddamned tease. I push back harder, but he fends off my movements with a firm grip around my hips. I’m at his mercy now and his pace. He hardens his tongue as he drags it up and down my sodden opening.

“Take me then,” I gasp. “Right now. Fuck me hard.”

He growls and I can feel the reverberations against my clit—and even
that
makes me shudder. I’m a hair’s breadth away. The tear of the condom package echoes loudly in the room whose only sounds are our labored breaths.

With one smooth motion, he seats himself to the hilt. Both his hands are on my hips as he powers himself in and out of me. I brace my palms against the headboard as the force of his strokes push me forward on the mattress.

“Am I deep enough yet?” he murmurs into my ear. “Can you feel me all the way through your body?”

I nod my head, too aroused to even answer. The sensitive flesh of my core is swollen and tingling from earlier orgasms. The feelings evoked by every withdrawal and advancement of his cock is magnified.

“You’re extra tight right now,” he whispers, dropping his head to bite along my neck and shoulder. Tremors rock me, and I feel close to collapse.

Sensing my imminent climax, he pulls me upright so we’re both kneeling. He places one hand on my neck like a collar and the other he drops to my mound. Unbalanced, I reach behind us and hook an arm around his neck.

“That’s right,” he croons. “Feel us, Tiny.”

He drags my free hand to my sex. He covers me with his big hand, pressing our palms against my clit and arranging our fingers on either side of my opening. His fingers extend farther than mine, but I can feel his wet shaft arrowing in and out in rhythmic motions. “Feel how beautiful this is. How fucking hot this is. I think about this constantly. My cock inside you, covered in your juice. Wet with your arousal. I fantasize about your tight, hot pussy squeezing me until I can’t breathe.”

“I want you to come with me.” He exerts more pressure against my clit until I’m delirious. Turning my head, I can see the thick veins of his neck prominently displayed. His eyes are heavy lidded but directed at me, and his lips are parted as he’s caught up in our joining. The sight of him is breathtaking. Need, want, and pleasure are written in large, obvious letters on his skin.

It’s that sight that sends me over. My body freezes up as the climax overtakes me, spiraling out. I can feel my own come flood our fingers. In a daze, I hear him groan and then the movements behind me, beneath my lax fingers, quicken. His hand moves away from my throat to grab my breast, and I’m imprisoned in his embrace as he works his cock against me with a ferocity I’ve not felt before. His hips surge against me in uncoordinated thrusts, and he takes a quick indrawn breath as his arousal peaks.

“My God, Tiny,” he says, tumbling me down on the sheets. “I’m becoming addicted to you.”

“Good, because I don’t know if I can live without you either,” I confess, trembling from the aftershocks.

“You won’t have to.”

M
ORNING
COMES
TOO
QUICKLY
FOR
me. I don’t think Ian allowed me more than an hour’s rest last night, and I feel sore all over. But each twinge of pain when I stretch puts a smile on my face because I recall the sinfully delicious ways that I worked out muscles I didn’t realize I had. I felt desirable and possessed.

“I hope you’re okay with your mom knowing that I fucked you like crazy last night.” Ian hands me a plate of perfectly poached eggs, wheat toast, and steak. It looks like a dinner but I guess I worked up an appetite because I fall on the meat like a ravenous beast. He actually made all of it, including the steak, which surprised me. I figured he was solely an order out and delivery sort of guy.