Fucking loved it.
Elder grabbed my hips, holding me steady to drive into me harder. “Fuck, that’s it. Christ, Pim. Make yourself come while I fuck you. Feel my cock in you. Feel me hold you down and know you can’t go anywhere. You’re mine. You belong to me. My cock belongs in you. Your orgasms belong to me. Everything about you belongs to me.” His pace turned crazed, his sweat dripping onto my spine as he drove into me faster, harder. “Come with me, Pimlico. Come. Now. Christ...come...” His voice switched to a lupine growl, and I rubbed so hard, a cramp shot down my arm and into my fingers.
The pain only added another dimension.
And this time...this time, I reached the finish line before him.
I screamed loud and uncaring as the crescendo found me, rippling down my core, squeezing inner muscles, shooting me into utopia as my legs gave out and I puddled over the couch arm.
The rush of liquid heat ensured my body was ready for deeper penetration.
Elder took full advantage.
He reared up, hands clamped on my hips, burying himself as far as he could as he roared out a second release.
On and on he thrust, feeding me his pleasure.
His cock throbbed with its own heartbeat, and residual clenches from my orgasm battered both of us.
He’d taken me twice.
He’d ravaged every part of me.
I was boneless, breathless, mindless.
But it wasn’t over.
Once more should be the key.
Lucky number three.
I honestly didn’t know if my heart could stand another. It bashed against my ribs as if it’d torn free from veins and arteries and suffocated in a pool of pleasure.
I gasped and gulped, my hair over my face, my dress in tatters.
I believed I had a few moments of reprieve while he gathered himself together.
Not this time.
Almost angrily, Elder withdrew and stumbled away. I turned in time to see him clutching his head, shaking and mumbling, his eyes squeezed shut.
He was resplendent in a tumbled tux and glistening cock spearing out from beneath his black shirt. His trousers still clung to his muscular thighs—neither one of us nude even after two bouts of passion.
Not bothering to hide my breasts or rub at the trickle of his seed on my inner thigh, I moved toward him.
He was still hard.
Still ready.
He couldn’t stop now.
Three was the magical number.
I would survive another.
I had to.
He had to.
We had to do this if my theory was ever to be tested.
Elder held up his hand. “Stop, Pim. I’m trying so fucking hard—”
“No, you stop.” If he was back to fighting it, this wouldn’t work. He had to give in because I needed to know if this experiment would work. If it didn’t, then Jethro and Nila Hawk would stumble upon us tomorrow gasping for water and bruised beyond recognition from marathon sex all night. But if it did work, then we could finally find peace as well as pleasure and find a way forward we both could live with.
I got to indulge in this new side of me.
And he got to have me knowing there was an end in sight.
Come on, Elder.
Don’t stop.
“I want more.” Swaying toward him, I cursed the weakness of my voice—the scratch of being well used. But I wasn’t lying. I did want more. I wanted this now, and I wanted more in the future.
I wouldn’t let him ruin it.
He said I belonged to him.
Well, for the first time, I wanted to belong to someone, but only if I could have him in return.
He had to do what I wanted...he has to.
Tackling him, I climbed his body and reached for his mouth. But he grabbed my wrists in one hand and my cheeks with the other, his eyes blazing into mine. “What are you doing to me?”
“Trying to free you.” Dangling in his grip, I fought to get free. “Let it happen.”
“Stop.”
I managed to wriggle out of his grip, swatting away his touch, and darting in to kiss him. “Fuck me, Elder Prest. You’re not finished yet.”
He snapped again.
This time, he fell to his knees, dragging me with him.
His mouth claimed mine, my dress whooshing up to surround us in red and blue.
Pushing aside my gown, he somehow managed to free me from the material to settle me on his lap. Our bare skin was intensely hot and slippery with combined sex and sweat.
We were no longer human, just animals desperate to mate.
Squirming on his lap, I moaned like a cat searching for cream—searching for him, entirely unshackled from propriety and self-awareness.
I was empty.
Empty.
“Fill me, fuck me...Elder...please.”
“You’re going to kill me, Tasmin.”
My eyes flew open at my real name just as he stabbed up and his cock impaled me all over again—both enemy and victor over swollen-sensitive flesh.
He called me Tasmin.
He glowered as if I were a conquest as well as his mistress.
He hated me as well as loved me in that moment.
I gasped and groaned as he drove exquisitely deeper.
“This is what you get. Are you happy now? Happy that I’ll just keep fucking you until I can no longer stand?” He punctured his growl with his rampaging hips, bouncing me in his arms, jerking me down to spear deep, deep, deep.
My breasts jiggled before his hands captured them, forming a bra from his fingers, squeezing me depravedly.
A barely there memory scrambled through my mind of the first time we’d had sex. He’d been on his knees, and I’d been in his lap. Only he hadn’t moved when he’d entered me. He’d been rigid while I burst apart in his arms.
Now, I pushed his shoulders, causing him to clench his belly only for his legs to kick out and lie down with my pressure.
The moment he was on his back, I gave him everything he wouldn’t take that first day.
“Yes, I’m happy. Yes, I’m glad you’re fucking me. But now, it’s my turn.” Digging my fingernails into his chest, I rode him.
I took him.
I moved with him as he guided my hips to a faster beat.
I studied his face as his jaw tightened and eyes blackened and hair tangled on the carpet.
I arched and revelled in the way he locked onto my bare breasts.
I gasped and preened at how gorgeous he was wearing a rumpled tux with my dress all around him.
I rode him while he rode me, and I took back every last piece of my sexuality on the floor of Hawksridge Hall.
With our eyes locked and bodies joined, my hand vanished under my dress for the second time. I couldn’t finish this without coming again. I needed to stare into his eyes and shatter. I needed him to see just how much he’d broken through my bounds and created a bold sexual lover who would never tire of him, never deny him, never ever leave him.
My dress trapped my hand, layers upon layers of satin preventing me from finding where we were joined.
Elder’s jaw clenched as his nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of us, his face drenched from exhaustion. One hand left my hipbone, burrowing through my skirts, finding me swiftly.
His thumb latched onto my clit with reckless precision, burying me under an avalanche of heaven.