Nasa’s eyes looked like liquid sapphires boring into her, his expression feral with arousal, with need. He wanted to grab her hair—she could tell in the way his biceps bulged and the wood of his bed creaked— but he held true even when she popped the buckle free of its leather mooring.
Dillon pushed the heel of her hand up along the length of his cock, the denim the only thing separating them now.
His throat worked audibly, and as much as she wanted to watch every single change in his expression, she needed to focus on the task at hand.
He was so hard; the moment she twisted the button of his fly free, the head of his cock and two engorged inches of scalding hot flesh popped up as though spring-loaded.
She bit back her laughter and the urge to sing 'Pop goes the weasel,' careful to pull the denim forward before easing the zipper down.
Nasa heaved a groan of relief, muttering a ripe curse under his breath when Dillon sat back on her heels and abandoned his pants in favor of his boots.
She had to tug hard to get them off, then his socks, then went back to ease his jeans down and off.
Dillon reached out with both hands, feeling her way up his calves, noticing the way his cock jumped when she lightly skimmed the back of his knees on the way to his thighs.
She had every intention of leaning in to explore the thick, engorged flesh with her lips, but he stopped her with one word.
“Wait.”
A breath away from him, Dillon went perfectly still. She didn't even look up until he reached down to cup her chin, feeling how his hand trembled before tipping her head back. His thumb cruised over her lips as he studied her, his pupils blown wide, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“I'm on the edge here. I'm so primed to blow... One lick, and I'm done.”
Dillon felt the power that came with his admission, the sensuality of her own allure. “I don't mind.”
Nasa huffed a coarse laugh, the muscles of his thighs tensing to concrete when she licked at his thumb.
“I do. I want you to remember tonight for the rest of your life, and not because I shot my load in under two seconds the first time you gave me your mouth.”
Dillon doubted anything short of brain trauma would make her forget what happened next.
Nasa helped her to her feet and reached down to fill his hands with her butt, his grin cocky as hell when he hoisted her up, effortlessly holding her against him while she scrambled to hitch her legs around his waist.
“Oh, my god,” Dillon whispered, never having thought she'd be the type of woman to get turned on for having been picked up and carried somewhere. Clearly, he wasn't out there flipping tires in the yard for fun.
“No gods here,” Nasa drawled playfully, “just me.”
“Debatable,” she answered, her breath catching when he sat on the edge of the bed and scooted back, their bodies separating just enough to have his cock sliding between her folds, splitting her open, every hard inch snuggled tight against the most sensitive place on her body.
Nasa rocked her on his lap, his lashes falling to half-mast. “We go at your pace this time. What's your safe word?”
“Apricot,” she answered, tucking her hips forward to try for more friction against her clit, her breaths tripping over one another as the smoldering endorphins of her previous orgasm started to spark. “I should have... should have said earlier. I'm ah... I'm clean, and I have an implant.”
For a moment, Nasa didn't answer, but when he did, the growl in his voice made her pussy ripple and contract. “Are you giving me permission to take you bare?”
Dillon nodded, a sound somewhere between a whine of protest and a gasp of shock ripping out of her when his fingers bit into her hips, forcing her to sit still.
“Say it,” he ordered softly, making every hair on her body stand up and quiver.
“Yes, I'm giving you permission.” Dillon stared into his eyes from a heartbeat away, watching something move through his expression that hadn't been there before. It was a gleam of possession and adoration. Of lust and worship. Of tenderness and triumph.
His arm banded around her waist, his gaze fixed on hers as he lifted her up and held her just high enough for the head of his cock to kiss her core.
She'd forgotten what it felt like, that first stretch of her body giving way to another, the sizzle of electricity that speared through her groin and up into her hips.
Thick and long. Dillon wondered if her body could accommodate him. As harsh as his expression became, Nasa took his time, letting her feel every flex and draw of her muscles parting to take all of him.
Without any leverage to move up and down, the only movement she could make was a deep, rocking grind.
“Yes, that's it,” Nasa growled against her lips. “Feel good?”
It felt so good all Dillon could do to answer was nod and remember to breathe. Wrapped around one another made every breath, every kiss—every slide of skin on skin— sink past her flesh and deep into her soul.
Every pore and follicle tingled, the scars on her back throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and even as she felt like she was flying, Nasa kept her safely tethered to him.
A mind-numbing orgasm appeared out of nowhere, stealing her breath, her sight, but Nasa managed to hang on and rolled with her across the bed, never once disengaging.
Heart to heart, Dillon stared into his eyes, seeing herself reflected there for a moment before he reached down to draw her knee over his elbow.
She could see the pleasure in his expression.
Lust, a silent entreaty to give him more. To give him everything she was, all she had been, and all she would be.
It terrified her, but she felt the
