“It’s all I have to offer you.” His voice was raw, urgent. “It’s all I’ve got. Please.”
His pain slammed her in the chest. Breaking point. This was Austin. The real man she’d seen only in glimpses. She couldn’t explain what propelled her forward, seeking his mouth with her own. Only knew that if she didn’t have the anchor of his kiss, she’d implode with the sensations careering through her system, puncturing the fabric of her being. Austin made a gruff, broken noise, mouth returning the kiss with frantic brutality. Teeth dug into lips, tongues slipped together as nonsensical words transferred from one mouth to the other. Polly had no consciousness of when she stopped touching herself and clung to Austin, giving and receiving the kiss she never wanted to end.
Finally, he broke away, his forehead now shining with perspiration. “Hands. Hands.” Polly’s nod was jerky, breath coming in staccato bursts as she fumbled with the knots at his wrists. “Come on, come on, come on,” he growled against her lips. “I’m going to fuck the life out of you, cruel girl. Sit beside another man? Deny me the privilege of being the one who makes you come? Your lesson was lost in my jealousy. Untie me so I can take it out on your *.”
Austin’s body went rigid as she uncoiled the silk rope from his hard length, so swollen with need, she felt a rush of sympathy. But it was obliterated by excitement when he rose in one abrupt movement, Polly’s legs still wrapped in an unbreakable hold around his waist. He stooped down to retrieve a foil packet from his discarded pants before striding across the room, breath rasping in her ear. They entered the dark bathroom. Her backside hit the marble vanity mere seconds before his thickness impaled her, sliding her back on the hard surface, forcing a raw, echoing scream from her throat.
Demanding hands found her bottom, dragging her back for more, holding her still as Austin drove deep. Deep, deep, deeper. There was none of his usual finesse or calculation, just hot, ruthless fucking. The sweat she’d inspired dripped from his forehead to her belly and breasts, trickling down to where their bodies joined. Polly’s hands scrambled for something to hold on to, but no sooner did she seek purchase than Austin shoved both hands behind her back, keeping them prisoner with one of his own.
“I’m not your good boy right now, am I?” He reared back and slammed into her, their damp skin striking together. Polly’s knees dug into his sides, a quickening taking hold, intensifying with each repeated movement. “Or maybe I am. Getting sweeter with every push of my cock, aren’t you?” His words were punctuated by quick pumps of his hips, effectively rolling Polly’s eyes to the back of her head. “Tight, tight, tight, aren’t we, pretty thing? Go on and soak me. I earned every drop.”
It wasn’t mere relief but salvation that overrode all semblance of thought, pulling muscles taut she’d never been aware of, racking her in shudders. She had a vague awareness of Austin lifting her ankles and grinding into her, his groans splitting the air around them. Holy shit, holy shit. She attempted to drag in oxygen to replenish her empty lungs, but screamed instead.
Austin caught her before she could fall back against the bathroom mirror, pulling her forward into the heat of his chest. He kissed her forehead with a tenderness that belied his unforgiving length, still wedged to the hilt inside her. “You think you could have done that with your fingers?” The utter arrogance of the question was tempered by the catch of vulnerability in his tone, making her recall what he’d said while still bound by the rope. It’s all I have to offer you.
Polly shook her head.
His eyes drifted closed a moment, before his eyelids lifted to reveal sexual intention so concentrated, Polly trembled in awe. And perhaps a small amount of fear that he could see everything. All of the chinks in her armor, strengths in her arsenal. The same way she saw all of him in that moment. Her heart started to thrum in the hopes that he would move inside her again—she craved more, more—but Austin withdrew from her body with a wince. He whipped her off the sink and for one terrified beat, she thought he would punish her for what happened in the chair by not finding his own release. Until he spun her around, pushed her forward onto the vanity and rammed his thick inches inside her, eliciting a loud sob of his name. It was so dark in the bathroom, she couldn’t see his face, only the outline of him in the mirror. But she’d never felt more like she was looking directly at someone.