“Oh, God,” I said on a strangled moan as his thick cock inched deeper, brushing dormant nerve endings.
He growled again, his hands now gripping both of my hips, his fingertips pressing into my flesh as he held me in place.
Trent’s eyes met mine. “You feel so damn good.”
That was an understatement. I’d never felt anything like this. Never been completely consumed by one man. Trent overwhelmed all my senses until I was little more than a puddle of hormones.
Trent finally guided me, lifting my hips, then lowering me, never retreating too much. There was an urgency to his movements, as though he couldn’t get enough.
“Kiss me, pet. Fuck me like you need this as much as I do.”
Without an ounce of hesitation, I gave in to his command until we were both panting and moaning, our bodies slapping together as years of lust and desire culminated into a conflagration of desperation and need.
Long minutes passed, but Trent never let up. He drove his hips upward to meet every downward shift of my body. The muscles in his neck were tense beneath my fingers. I could tell he was fighting to hold on.
I whimpered as that warning tingle of my orgasm ignited in my womb. I was going to come whether or not I had permission. I was too far gone to ask for it. Surrendering completely to my own pleasure, I pulled my mouth from his and cried out as I came.
“Fuck, yes,” he roared, jerking me down on him one last time as his cock pulsed inside me.
Trent didn’t immediately retreat. He pulled my head back to his, his lips pressing gentle kisses over my mouth, my cheeks, until our breathing became more regulated.
When I was no longer trembling, Trent picked me up, as easily as if I weighed nothing, then carried me to my bedroom. He deposited me on the bed, then slipped into the bathroom. When he returned—without the condom—I watched his face as he undressed, then slipped beneath the blankets with me. His cock was still hard as it pressed against my bottom, which surprised me. If he’d come, he wouldn’t be hard, would he?
“Master?”
“Yes, pet?”
“Did you…?” I swallowed hard.
“I did,” he said, his tone reassuring. “That’s just me wanting you again. It’s something we’ll both have to get used to. Now, I want you to sleep.”
With that, Trent tucked me in close, his lips pressing against the crown of my head. Within seconds, my exhaustion gave way to sleep.
And possibly, for the first time in my entire life, I felt … whole.
Trent
I WOKE AS THE SUN was just starting to peek through the blinds, the warmth of the sweet submissive against me. I wasn’t eager to get out of bed, but I had a lot to do, so I forced my brain to wake while ignoring the throbbing of my cock. I wanted nothing more than to sink inside Clarissa again, to let her soft heat bathe my dick, but I knew that would have to wait. If I gave in, I feared I would take more than she was willing to give. I wanted too much from this woman and I knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.
As it was, I knew we had a lot to work through. Although the sex was earth-shattering, it wasn’t the foundation for a relationship. And above all else, I wanted more from Clarissa than merely playtime.
For instance, last night, I had felt the way she was holding back, the way she began mentally retreating in an effort to follow my instruction. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I had felt it. The woman said she was a submissive, but I got the sense she was topping from the bottom. Perhaps without knowing.
It was obvious she was eager to please her Dom, but I needed her to know that losing her sense of self wasn’t appealing. The instant I’d asked her to undress, the woman I’d spent the entire day with disappeared. The sassy submissive had given way to someone else, a shell of the original woman.
Not that I wouldn’t take her any way I could have her, but I knew Clarissa was a strong woman. She was definitely submissive, but I wanted the real woman. I not only wanted her submission, I wanted her complete surrender. But until she understood she wasn’t the one in control, I didn’t think that was even possible.
Kissing the back of her head, I slipped out from beneath the blankets. I grabbed my clothes and went to her bathroom. I relieved myself, washed my hands and face, then dressed quickly.
As quietly as I could, I headed toward the living room. I found Zeke sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of him.
“Mornin’,” he greeted roughly. “Sleep well?”
