Page 45 of All Mixed Up

My pulse accelerated so fast, I was ready to slay qualifying trials at Le Mans. “I—I didn’t say that.”

“But ohhh, you did.” Yet another shameless roll of everything below his waist. The man was playing dirty—and damn it, he already knew I loved it. “You would like me to do that here and now, yes? Right in the middle of the park, where everyone can hear you scream when I spread your thighs and punish your pussy? When I make it red and ready for my hot, hard cock?”

He kept up with the seduction, switching to French my brain didn’t need to translate, while exchanging his hip rolls for long, glorious slides of sensual generosity.

And torture.

Ohhh, that too.

Because as soon as he spoke of my legs parting, they did. As he evoked the image of my pussy reddening for him, it burned with new need.

“Lucien.” My voice was a bare croak now. “Please!”

He rocked harder against me. His hair tumbled totally free from its slicked tethers, falling against the stark angles of his face as he loosened my hands from his shoulders. At once, he lowered them to my sides, pinning them against the leaves and twigs in the warm summer earth.

“Say it,” he directed. “Tell me.”

“I—I—”

“Form the words, ma belle. Focus on what your sweet little cunt needs from me.”

His dictate was the key I needed. The twist that freed me from the remainders of my inhibitions. As my mind flew without any boundaries, so did my words.

“I need…your cock,” I whispered. “I need it deep inside. Filling me…”

“Fucking you?”

“Yes. Yes, Lucien. Fucking me.”

He grabbed my hands again. Shoved them over my head. Locked both of them beneath one of his, using his other to unzip his fly. His dick sprang free, swelling with new desire and dripping with milky drops. A beautiful moan vibrated his throat as he indulged the beautiful length with several forceful strokes. When he was at full length, he caressed my clit with it. I quivered and sighed as his wet bulb taunted my most sensitive flesh. Oh, good God. Screw le Mans. I was already in heaven.

My breaths came with greater labor as my sex convulsed harder, holding back the need to orgasm already. Damn it, Lucien seemed to know that too—yet his arrogant smirk only made me hotter, wetter, needier. Every inch of my skin felt too tight. Every throb of my heart thundered in my ears.

Every corner of my sex craved his invasion. The flawless fit of his incredible, engorged length…

Yes.

Now.

Please!

His dexterity with the condom was so good, it was a little unnerving—but I hurled the stress aside as he guided his throbbing head to my waiting entrance. It was time to focus on the tension that mattered—the strain along every inch of my intimate tunnel—and getting this magnificent god to help me relieve it.

To be the one who slaked his lust too…

“Oh! Damn!”

I cried out the syllables as he lunged in, claiming my body in one wet, hard stroke. He rammed me so hard, seeds and sticks bit into my back. I welcomed the pain as openly as my pussy hugged his cock, rejoicing in the primal completion of our joined bodies. The consuming heat of it. The primitive power of it.

The terrifying rightness of it.

“Merde,” he gritted.

“Oh, shit,” I rasped.

“Ca fait…du bien.”

“Feels…so good.”