Page 13 of Forged

“Please, what, Neomi?”

Her hips roll underneath me.

“You know exactly what I want,” she bites out.

I pause and lean down to whisper against her jaw, “Tell me again, tell me how badly you want my cock.”

Her eyes open, lit with frustration. She reaches down and grabs my dick, lining me up.

“I want to come on your cock, Lars. And I think you want me as badly as I want you. Now, fuck me.”

I can’t fight my satisfied smile as I push in, slowly stretchingher, and her moan claws straight through my chest. Her nails catch on my forearms in a desperate grip.

“Fuckkkk.” I grit, sinking deeper with each stroke until I’m buried to the base. “You feel—Jesus, you feel absolutely perfect.”

Her legs lock around my waist, dragging me in deeper. “Move,” she demands.

I pull out almost entirely, then thrust again, deep and hard. Her cry echoes off the walls. I release her hands to steady myself with a hand on the mattress, the other sliding instinctively into her hair, fisting at the base of her skull.

The moment I tighten my grip, her head tips back, eyes glowing dark with pleasure.

“Oh God—yes. Pull my fucking hair, Lars,” she commands.

I tug harder, pulling her head back to expose the skin of her neck to my mouth, and thrust again—same angle, same brutal pace. She shudders under me as I fuck into her. Her nails rake along my shoulders, tracing the muscles before gripping tight, urging me deeper.

“Is this what you wanted?” I growl against her jaw, my voice wrecked. “To be fucked hard? To come apart on my cock?”

“Yes. Fuck me, Lars. As hard as you can, don’t hold back.”

I keep my hand in her hair, pulling her head back just a little more, and drive into her with a force that has her chanting my name, her entire body straining to take everything I give her. My other hand slides under her ass, lifting her into each thrust so she meets me, her pussy like a goddamn vise.

Her breath breaks into frantic sounds, the kind that shove me straight toward the edge. Her lips find my neck and fuck me, it drives me out of my goddamn mind. She sucks and bites until my head feels hazy and my hips are moving at a punishing pace.

“Lars—” she pants. “Don't stop?—”

I thrust into her, the room blurring at the edges as she tightens around me in pulses. My hand moves from her hair to her neck. As I squeeze the sides of her throat, her mouth opens and her eyes roll back.

“Yes,fuck.” She strains.

I alternate between squeezing and releasing, each time her back arches a little higher, her breaths come a little deeper until her legs are trembling, nails digging into my forearm, as she comes. I thrust through every wave of it, my hips stuttering as her orgasm drags mine out of me with violent inevitability.

I bury myself deep, releasing her neck and bracing one hand above her head as the pleasure rips through me—white-hot and all-consuming.

“Neomi—fuck, I’m coming,” the words tear out of me as I spill into the condom in deep, shaking pulses, thrusting until the last aftershock drains out of my spine.

When I finally collapse onto my elbows, my forehead rested against her shoulder, her hands softly slide into my hair, her breath brushing my ear.

Her pulse is still fluttering under my cheek before I pull back, her body loose and warm beneath me, her thighs trembling around my hips. The room smells like sex and her perfume, and it could be so damn addictive.

I ease out of her, tie off the condom, toss it into the trashcan by the nightstand, and she’s watching me with that post-orgasm glow that looks a hell of a lot like triumph.

I smile. “You look satisfied.”

She nods, eyes closed. “Mmmmm, I can’t feel my toes.”

I kiss her cheek. “Be right back.”

She’s still catching her breath when I press one last, unhurried kiss to the inside of her thigh and pull away. Every instinct tells me to stay right where I am. To sink back into her warmth, to keep going until she’s wrung out and boneless again. It takes more effort than it should to stand and force my body toward the bathroom.