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Only then does he straighten, hands working at his belt. He frees his cock—hard, thick and dripping for me—and runs the tip through my slick folds.
“Look at me,” he commands, voice gravelly with need. I meet his gaze, struck breathless by the intensity of his stare. “You’re mine, Sandra. Say it.”
“All yours,” I breathe out.
With a snarl, Magnus slams home.
I gasp as he fills me, deliciously stretching me. Magnus stills, eyes closing.
“Fucking perfect,” he groans. “So fucking tight and wet for me.”
He withdraws slowly only to thrust back in, hard. I cry out, nails digging into his shoulders. Again and again he pounds into me, rough and deep, just like I need. The slap of skin and our harsh breaths echoing into the small space.
I meet each powerful stroke, craving more. “Magnus, please, I need—”
“I know exactly what you need.” He snakes a hand between us, circling my clit with two fingers. Pleasure jolts through me and I clench around him. “That’s it, baby. Fucking come for me. Now,” he growls.
His fingers move faster, his cock hitting that spot deep inside. The tension rising in my belly snaps and I come with a shout, vision whiting out. I distantly feel Magnus still and jerk as he finds his own release.
We stay like that for long moments, panting harshly. He brushes his lips over my cheek, my temple, feather-light. I sigh, basking in the afterglow and his gentle affection.
He nips at my jaw, eyes gleaming with promise. “Is that a challenge, Dr. Mason?”
I stretch, deliberately clenching around his softening length. Magnus sucks in a breath, grip tightening on my hips. He growls, and then he’s kissing me again.
I gasp as Magnus scoops me into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist automatically. Nibbling at his jaw while he walks us to the bedroom.
His stride is purposeful. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. Musk and spice, utterly intoxicating.
Magnus kicks the door shut behind us and presses me against the cool wall.
He’s rolling his hips against mine. I moan, desire already brewing low in my belly again.
Magnus smirks and claims my mouth in a searing kiss. Our tongues tangle as his huge hands roam my body, squeezing and caressing. He pinches a nipple and I cry out, bucking against him.
“So fucking responsive,” he murmurs approvingly. “I love how much you want this. Want me.”
“Yes,” I gasp. He slips two thick fingers inside me and I clench around them. “Magnus, please!”
“Please what?” He crooks his fingers, stroking my g-spot until I see stars. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
“You,” I say desperately. “I want you inside me.”
“Good girl.” He withdraws his fingers and replaces them with the head of his latex-covered cock, sliding in with one hard thrust.
We moan in unison at the sensation. Nothing has ever felt this good, this right. Magnus begins to move, hard and fast, just the way I crave it. Our harsh breaths and the sounds of our bodies connecting, mingling.
I meet his gaze, dark eyes burning into mine, and come with a hoarse cry. His rhythm stutters and he follows, burying his face in my neck.
We stay tangled together for a long time, exchanging soft kisses and whispers. Eventually Magnus helps me stand, steadying me when my knees wobble.
“I should get you home,” he says regretfully.
“Or I could stay,” I suggest, tracing the lines of his tattoos.
Magnus’s eyes darken. “Tempting. But I have an early practice tomorrow, and you have classes to teach.”
I pout. “You’re no fun.”
