Page 83 of False Catch

"Be still," I command.

She freezes, muscles trembling with the effort.

"That's it." I reward her with a kiss to her shoulder. "Just feel."

I map her body with deliberate patience. Learn which spots make her gasp (the hollow of her throat), which make her writhe (the inside of her thighs), which make her curse (the dimples on her lower back and the dead-center of her spine).

By the time I finally touch her where she's wet and aching, she's nearly sobbing with need.

"Please," she breaks, forgetting the no-talking rule.

"Please what?"

"Please, Bo, I need—"

"I know what you need."

I slide two fingers into her, and she cries out. She's soaked, clenching around me immediately.

"Not yet," I tell her, stilling my hand. "You don't come until I say."

"I can't—"

"You can." I work her slowly, steadily, bringing her to the edge over and over only to pull back. "You're stronger than you think. And right now you need someone else to be in control."

She's babbling now, begging, promising anything if I'll just let her finish. But I wait until she's completely undone, until there's nothing left but raw need.

"Now," I tell her against her ear, my own breath rough with desire, and she shatters.

The orgasm rips through her so hard she arches completely off the bed. I work her through it, drawing it out until she's oversensitive and pushing at my hand.

Before she can recover, I'm between her thighs, lifting her hips. "Again."

"I can't—"

I thrust into her, and her protest becomes a scream. She's so tight, so perfect around me. I set a pace that's relentless but not rough, deep steady strokes that hit exactly where she needs.

"Wrap your legs around me," I tell her, and she does, changing the angle so I'm even deeper.

"Oh god, Bo—"

"That's it. Let me hear you."

She's loud now, abandoned, all that careful control completely gone. This is what she needs—to be taken out of her head, reduced to pure sensation.

I can feel my knot starting to swell, that Alpha instinct to claim and mark and keep. But I hold back, wanting to draw this out, to completely wreck her in the best way.

"Please," she gasps. "Your knot, I need—"

"You'll get it."

I flip us so she's on top, straddling me. "Ride."

She moves on instinct, finding a rhythm that has her head falling back. I grip her hips, guiding her, watching her chase her pleasure.

"That's my girl," I growl. "Take what you need."

She comes again, clenching around me so hard I have to work to suck in a deep breath. That's when I let go, let my knot expand, locking us together. She gasps at the stretch, the fullness, then melts against my chest as I clench my eyes and grit my teeth, coming into her so violently I almost pass out.