Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)

“That’s the only name you’ll ever say on the way to an orgasm.”

River’s nod was frantic, her teeth beginning to chatter, courtesy of the desire grabbing hold of her nervous system, of every part of her. With that silent agreement, Vaughn surged up, positioning her bottom just beneath the edge of the mattress, hooking his arms beneath her knees. Then he began to drill into her slowly. A nasty, yet unhurried entering of her body. A torturous slide out. The mind-blowing journey back to her stopping point. The hot press of his balls against the crease of her backside. “Oh…faster, please,” River sobbed. “Too long. It’s been too long.”

“What did I say about that begging? It’s my goddamn turn,” Vaughn reminded her hoarsely, craning his neck to suck a pebbled nipple between his lips. And when he spoke again, his gaze was fastened between her spread legs. “Can I have this * for myself again? Please, River? Give it back to your buck for safe keeping.”

A shudder drove through her like a hundred mile an hour wind. The word yes bounced up and down on her tongue, but it wouldn’t come out. Some shred of self-preservation begged her not to make the almighty decision when her body was on fire. And it was. She was engulfed by a blaze that had never really gone out, but had been renewed even hotter than before.

It was clear from the inferno reflecting back in Vaughn’s eyes that he didn’t appreciate her hesitation. The pace of his thrusts grew more biting, more insistent, his flesh entering her with hard slaps. “My baby doll needs more persuading, does she?” He added a twist of his hips to the sensuous pattern in which he drove into River’s body. There was a stiff set to his jaw, but those brown eyes were pleading and desperate, calling to the organ in her chest. “Please, oh God, please. I can’t live on memories anymore.” He fell forward, planting his sweat-dappled face against her neck. “I’ve hated my cock. I’ve abused it, because it wasn’t making you come. I’ve been so rough with it, holding off until a single thought of you could make me bust in my pants. It’s been my enemy.” His rush of breath slithered through her hair. “Because it wasn’t here where it was supposed to be, satisfying these dirty little needs I created in you. I did, didn’t I? Made a good girl dirty?”

“Yes,” she wailed up at the ceiling. During Vaughn’s speech, the pumps of his hips had lost their rhythm, but River’s pulse still accommodated the erratic beats, matching it, made for it. “You made me dirty.”

His answering growl was accompanied by the last vestige of his control slipping. River felt the snap, felt the impact of restraint being lost. He began thrusting into her so hard the upper half of her body bowed back, hands fisting in her own hair. She could feel the rebounding of her breasts with every pounding of Vaughn’s body, and that sexual hyperawareness was heaven, earth, and everything in between. Especially when Vaughn’s teeth raked down the center of her body, from her cleavage, downward.

“Oh. Oh God,” River gasped, feeling her loins tighten and quiver. “Yes.”

When Vaughn forced them both fully up onto the bed, the gravitational press of his body robbed River of lucid thought. As if every component of their beings craved contact, their left hands met and held above River’s head. “This is where I’d turn you over and fuck anything I want to hear out of your mouth, isn’t it?” His right hand slid between their married hips, the pad of his thumb giving her clit the attention it craved. “This kitty likes when you’re on all fours, doesn’t it? You could never get that ass up in the air fast enough. Fuck, the way you used to look at me over your shoulder. Come get it, big daddy.” He broke off on a growl, releasing the hand he’d pinned above her head in order to grip her leg. “Next time. This time I’m begging to get back between these thighs. Permanently. I want it every goddamn day.”

River’s right knee was jerked up to her shoulder, Vaughn coming at her from an angle that ripped a scream from her mouth. Every pound of his formidable body drove her across the bed, her hands alternating between slapping him across the face and yanking his hair, urging him closer. Here was familiar. This place where her lover—Vaughn, always Vaughn—stole her humanity. Turned her into a climax-hungry animal, clawing, reaching, twisting.

And then the orgasm pummeled River, locking her muscles into a shaking tangle with Vaughn’s. She could hear his voice in the distance—and he was angry, in a breathless, awed sort of way.

“No. No. I needed you to take me back first,” Vaughn shouted into her shoulder, seconds before he lifted his head, giving River a front row seat to his eyes going blank, his jaw slackening. His masculine rumble of completion pushed her higher, prolonging the climax, doubling its potency. “Finally coming in what’s mine again. Finally. Finally. Say the words, doll. Please.”