He set me down and began to unbutton his shirt. “Undress. Now. And I expect you to be sopping for me.”
That wasn’t going to be difficult—I already was. Now I just needed to get rid of my clothes as fast as possible. I bit my lip as I grabbed the hem of my sweater and pulled it over my head. When I popped free, Nathan was already down to his boxer briefs.
He snarled up at me and stepped forward, reaching out and yanking my bra off the same way I had my sweater. “Too fucking slow, Delilah.” He pinched and pulled at my nipples, making me cry out. I was having a hard time remembering which side the zipper to my skirt was on. When I found it, I tried to get it down, but it was stuck on something.
“I’m going to fucking rip it off if you don’t get it now.”
Fuck. If I didn’t like the skirt so much, I’d let him.
I gave the zipper another try, and it finally came free. The skirt slipped from my hips to the ground and I stepped out. He stood in front of me, completely naked and very hard.
His blue eyes were stormy as he stepped forward, grabbing onto my hair and bending my head back, then smashed his lips to mine. I moaned, lips parting as his tongue touched mine like he was trying to devour me. I gripped onto his shoulder and arched into him.
We were both out of breath when we parted, but his eyes were still dark and heavy.
My hand was wrapped around his shaft, lightly moving up and down before I squeezed with more pressure. I licked my lips and looked from his menacing, lust-filled eyes to the bead at the tip of his hard cock. A whimper crawled out of me—I was dying to be fucked by him and the monster in my hand.
His jaw clenched while his head dropped back. The cords in his neck stood out, and so did his Adam’s apple.
“Jesus, my slut likes to tease me twenty-four-seven. It’s no wonder I have to send her dirty texts—to remind her what she does to me, and what she’s going to get in return.”
I chuckled. “It’s a tiring job, but someone’s gotta do it, and I can’t allow anyone else to since they won’t do it right.” I grabbed his hand and placed it between my thighs.
“Goddamn…you’re soaking wet. Such a fucking good girl. Makes me proud.” He growled low in his throat, his jaw clicking closed and clenching again.
I shuddered when his middle finger slid over my clit and dipped inside my pussy.
“Fuck.”
Two of his fingers began pumping into me. “Oh, I will, but first I need to teach you a lesson before I fuck you into the floor, listening to you begging me to stop.”
The intensity of his mood directly transferred to me through his hand rocking into me and against my clit. His teeth dug in, biting his way down my neck with a harsh edge. I cried out when he bit down and pulled at my nipple. It was all so much, driving me with force to the edge. I was shaking, muscles tensing, but it wasn’t enough.
“Please.” I needed his cock in me, not his fingers—his body on top of mine, weighing me down, doing just as he described.
Wrapping his other arm around me, he lifted me off the ground, hand still fucking my pussy, and guided us over to the kitchen table. The back of my thighs dug into the edge.
“You’re going to fucking come all over my fingers, and then I might think about giving you my cock.”
A tearless sob shook me and his hand moved faster as his hips rocked his cock against my thigh. The heat and friction was driving me crazy with want. His fingers curled inside, and my eyes flew open, back arching against him again and again until I snapped, screaming out.
His fingers left me, and he lined up and slammed his cock in my pussy before the first waves were done. My orgasm hiccuped, or at least that was what it felt like when he filled me. I wasn’t even through my first when his cock forced me to my second.
I could barely breathe, and my body was shaking. That was two almost right in a row.
He kept pushing me for more, thrusting harder and faster. My pussy was twitching, still coming down from the last high. His hips angled up, hitting my sweet spot while his fingers pinched my clit. Three was the most I’d ever come in one session. I was done, but it seemed he was determined to force one more out of me.
My nails dug into his forearm as my body tensed, coiled so tight I thought I would burst. It felt like I was about to pee, and I was desperate to keep it in but too tired to care. Something exploded from me, and it was more than just my orgasm. I screamed out, crying as wave after wave coursed through me.
I couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak; I could only feel the light, boneless weightlessness. My mind was clear, my body tired, and I collapsed, unable to hold myself up any longer.
“Holy… Damn… Shit.” Nathan’s curses were followed by him tensing as well, his body jerking as he spilled inside me.
Once he was done, he fell down on me, both of us breathing heavily. Neither of us moved, both spent.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked once I could breathe again.
Nathan sat back and looked down at where we were joined and now thoroughly soaked.
“I think you just squirted.” He beamed at me, proud of himself. “Damn, I’m good.”
“If my arms had any strength in them, I’d swat at you.” I chuckled with a tired, drained sound. I was drained. My entire body empty of all energy to move.
“If my legs had any strength, I’d be back inside you right now, making you do that again.” He chuckled and sighed, sounding more than high. He sounded like he’d died and gone to a sinner’s heaven.
It couldn’t be more true—Nathan was the war God of sex.
CHAPTER 3
It took a while to recoup from our activities and to resume cooking dinner. A nap followed by a shower killed a few hours. The sun had set long ago, and there wasn’t much left of the day.
My leg muscles quivered as I stood at the counter. They were weak from all the things Nathan did to me, and threatened to give out. As I pulled the pasta out of the pantry, I looked at the trash can. I had to throw everything out, and even considered pitching the burned pot. Nathan boasted about his ability to clean it, and I was giving him the opportunity to prove it before throwing it away.
He also promised to clean up the…mess by the kitchen table.
The cracking noise of the pasta breaking as I put it in the pot covered up all other sound, so I didn’t hear Nathan as he stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Trying again? I thought we’d just order in.”
I shrugged. “Pasta is quick and easy, and I’m hungry.”
His lips pressed against my neck. “Me too. I worked up an appetite.”
He let go and backed away, heading over to the now warm bottle of wine and placing it in the fridge.
I grabbed a slotted spoon from the drawer and stirred, breaking up the pasta so it didn’t clump. “Guess that will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“It’s not going to go bad.” He pulled out the butter and pasta sauce and placed them on the counter. “So, now that I have income again, let’s talk about the wedding.” I stopped stirring the pasta and turned to look at him. He arched his brow at me. “What?”
“I… Well, what kind of wedding do you want?”
He shook his head. “This is your thing. Plus, I’ve already done it. Isn’t it what women dream about and begin planning in the womb?”
I pursed my lips. He’d already had a big wedding when he married Grace, but did he want another one? “Maybe normal women, but I’m not exactly normal.”
“You are normal, but the way you grew up makes you unique.” His eyes softened the way they always did when I talked about my upbringing.