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The head breaches me, slowly stretches me and I dig my nails into his shoulders, gasping. I knew he’s big, but feeling him inside me is a completely different thing.

“Cass,” he says on a grunt, and I lick my lips. He slides deeper and his eyes widen. “Damn.”

I have no breath to speak. It’s crazy, how he fills me up, how good he feels. How close we are, locked together. Inch by inch he sinks into me until I’m sitting in his lap, his cock burning inside me, his hands gripping my hips.

We stay like that for a long moment, panting, holding onto each other.

Then he flips me onto my back, rolling on top of me—still buried inside me, flexing his hips in a move that has me moaning out loud.

“Oh my God.” I bend my knees, lift them, and he hooks them over his shoulders—black stockings, ankle-high boots and all. My skirt is bunched up around my waist, my lacy green panties pulled to the side. His long hair pools over my breasts, and I wish I were naked, so I could feel the rough silk on my nipples.

Gasping, he rocks his hips, driving deep into me, and bends over me to place a hand on either side of my head. A groan rumbles through his chest, and it’s so sexy I can’t stop myself from clutching at his arms.

His eyes darken, narrow. His hips slam into me, again and again, pushing me across the mattress. He lifts one hand off the bed and grips my neck, his thumb pressing into my throat, cutting off the flow of air.

I arch against him, the pressure mounting, clawing at my insides. Nobody ever touched me like this. Rough. Not afraid to break me. Chasing pleasure as darkness spills between us, sweet sticky desire.

His thumb eases up, allowing me a breath, presses again against my windpipe, just enough to tease—then his hand falls away and his mouth is on mine, swallowing my cries. He bites lightly on my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and I’m on overload.

His hand unhooks mine from his arm and presses it back against the mattress as he rocks into me faster—and then slower.

Then faster again. Driving me out of my mind with need.

Musk and spicy sweat and a faint whiff of pine from his hair. Solid muscles rippling under smooth skin. That powerful chest rising and falling.

I won’t last much longer. My core tightens around the girth of his cock, my legs tense over his shoulders.

Oh my God. It’s starting, deep inside me, an orgasm that will break me apart. Just this. Just his cock in me, sliding in and out—still fully dressed, and him not touching any other part of me.

Crazy.

He lowers his head, and his hair curtains his face, slipping over my neck like cool water. His square jaw clenches, teeth gritting. His chest muscles press into my chest, shifting, his cock swells more. His whole body flexes against mine, inside mine, fucking me so deep and hard I have no choice, no way to stop it.

No way to hold back. The pressure in my core mounts and mounts, higher and higher, then snaps, hurtling me into pleasure that crackles like fireworks up my spine and through every limb.

Another cry is torn from me, a long wail, as I lose complete control over my body, shaking and writhing on the bed.

“Shane,” I gasp, arching up to meet his thrusts as I clench and ripple around his dick—still long and thick and hard buried in my pussy. “Oh crap, I—”

Another wave hits me, stealing my breath. My head falls back, my eyes closing, as pleasure tears through me like a tornado, shattering me.

What the hell just happened? When I fuck a guy—when I let a guy fuck me—I’m the one in control. I take what I want, find my pleasure, get up and leave, telling myself that the vague feeling of unease is due to the fact I’ve used a guy, not the other way round. That the fact I don’t care for them, and they don’t care for me as our bodies twist and tangle together isn’t an issue.

But where Shane is concerned, I control nothing. Where he’s concerned, I feel too much. I’m with him, right here, body and soul.

As I come down, gathering my pieces from the corners of the universe, he slows his movements. His head is still bent, his face hidden. The powerful muscles in his chest bunch and release, his abs rippling.

It takes me longer than it should to realize something’s off.

“Shane.” He doesn’t react. His breath is coming out in shallow, uneven huffs. “Shane. Look at me.”

At first I think he can’t hear me, but he looks up, his gaze faraway.

For a moment I stare back at him, overwhelmed, my brain still reeling from all the pleasure. It’s so weird—that he’s still deep in my core, hard and hot, but his mind isn’t all there.

“Shane. The pendant.” I push against the hand holding mine down, and he releases it. He pulls his dick out of me in the same movement, arching back, and I gasp as it drags along my sensitized inner walls. “I gave you a pendant. Feel it.”

He’s kneeling on the bed, blinking at me without really seeing me, a hand raised as if to stop me from coming any closer.

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