He heard her frustrated surprise as he shoved through her legs and bent to her, looming over her with his hand in the bed.
It was hot as fuck watching her struggle to focus on him even as she clenched a fist in his shirt and tugged it to her, her other hand wandering close to the honey curls between her legs.
“Ready to get fucked?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered instantly.
Christ. She was gone.
Perfection.
“Baby, gonna fuck you. Ready for that?” he pushed.
She tugged harder on his shirt. “Yes, Joker,” she said impatiently.
He almost grinned.
Instead, he slid his free hand down her belly, knocking hers aside and toying with her curls.
When he did, he watched her lips part and felt her hips lift to deepen his touch.
“Joker,” she begged.
“Say it, Butterfly,” he ordered gently.
Her eyes widened briefly and flared.
Then she licked her lips and he almost lost it watching her do that before she said, “Hurry, sweetheart, and fuck me.”
That’s what he wanted.
That’s what he gave.
Flipping her to her stomach, he yanked her up so her knees were to the edge of the mattress, her fucking phenomenal heart-shaped ass right there for him, the smooth skin of her back, the mass of her curls along her shoulders and all over the bed.
He pulled out his wallet, dealt with the condom one-handed while he slid his fingers through her wet to keep her ready.
But even as he did it fast, he took too much time.
He knew it when she begged, “Carson, sweetie, please.”
He looked from her ass to see she had her neck twisted, her face filled with need.
Carissa Teodoro.
A hot little piece.
Fuck, his hot little piece, naked, ass in the air, lips begging.
Holding her eyes, he positioned the tip and didn’t hesitate before he drove inside.
Her ass jerked up as her back arched toward the bed and her head shot back, her ringlets flying.
Jesus.
Fuck.
Perfection.
“Move,” she panted.
He moved, pulling out, thrusting in, and giving it to her fast.
“Harder,” she begged, rearing back, lifting up on her forearms to give her leverage.
Totally fucking perfect.
He took her harder.
“Faster, more, Carson, please,” she whimpered, dropping her head and driving back to meet his thrusts.
He slid a hand around her hip and in, found her, and she started bucking.
“Goddamn perfection,” he grunted, slamming into her *, manipulating her clit, watching her take it, watching her love getting it and fucking loving giving it to her.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
Was she insane?
He wasn’t going to stop. Christ, he wished he never had to stop.
“Oh, God, Joker, don’t stop!” she cried, losing it, her neck arched, her ass tipped, her whimpers coming constant but catching every time she took his cock. “Sweetheart,” she panted. “Sweetie,” she moaned. “Joker! Yes!” she cried and he felt the drenched heat of her clutch him and he knew she was there.
He took his finger from her clit, grasped her hips and pulled her back into his thrusts, listening to her come, feeling it, fucking loving it. Letting her sleek wet clench him and pull it out of him, he drove deep and kept doing it, pounding her back on his dick, listening to her sweet, sharp mews as she took it.
Then he got it. His head jerking back, he fucked her as he came inside her, doing both hard.
As it started to leave him, he dropped his head and after a few beats the smooth cheeks of her ass came in focus.
His fingers still clamped around her hips, he took her gentle as he slid his palms to her cheeks, watching her * take his cock, his thumbs move over the swells of her ass. An ass he’d seen in cheerleader panties. An ass he’d watch move in her khakis. An ass he’d wanted like this for so long, it wasn’t fucking funny. A dream he’d made up, his hand on his cock, pumping until he came, the dream so good, even jacking off, the orgasm was always amazing.
But not like the real thing.
Nothing like it.
Not even close.
“Sweetie,” she called, her tone tentative, and Joker stopped watching his thumbs move over her flesh and looked to her.
He saw her body was tense and her neck was twisted, her eyes on him unsure.
He pulled out, flipped her over, lifted her up into his arms and put a knee to the bed. He moved them from the edge and dropped her to her back, his weight hitting soft body, pressing it into the bed, feeling it against him, her thighs holding him tight at his hips.
He lifted a hand and pulled a tangle of ringlets out of her face.
Then he bent and kissed her, soft, deep, so fucking sweet, and he kept doing it until she was holding on tight with all of her limbs.
Only then did he break it and ask, “You good?”
“Yeah,” she whispered but she didn’t need to. The uncertainty was gone. She was gazing up at him, dazed, her body warm and loose under his even if her limbs were still wound tight.
Suddenly, she looked to his nose.
“I liked the part where you… um, flipped me around. Or, I should say the, uh… parts.”
He grinned even though he wasn’t the kind of man who settled in for a blow by blow processing of a great fuck.
But if she wanted that, he’d give it to her.
“And when you had your, well…” her eyes dropped to his mouth, “mouth between my legs.”
He grinned bigger.
Her eyes skittered to his then to his hair and finally over to his ear.
“And the…” she bit her lip, let it go and brought her gaze to his, “edge of the bed thing. It felt…” her hand slid up into his hair and her voice dipped quiet, “kinda naughty.”
That was cute but if she thought that was naughty, and she liked it that way, he had a lot to teach her.
Even as he got off on that idea, something bothered him about it.
Her words came to him.
Don’t stop.
She’d said that in his bed in the Compound.
Fuck, she’d even said it when he was fingering her in the shower.
And he knew why she did.
Her ex stopped. Her ex didn’t go the distance with her before taking himself there. Her ex didn’t fuck her on her knees at the side of the bed.