“Yager! Yager…wait!”
He closed his eyes. Goddammit, she was bailing on him.
“Get this fucking T-‐shirt off me. It’s strangling me to death.”
Yager’s eyes popped open and he saw that her T-‐shirt had somehow twisted tightly around her neck. Leaning over, he pulled it up and off. That’s when he felt her mouth against his neck.
She leaned up, her teeth grazing his throat as she kissed him. Her hands desperately clutching his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his chest, holding him tightly in place. And that’s when he knew. All these months, he hadn’t been wrong. The vision that rocked his world hadn’t been wrong either.
Neecy Lawrence wanted him. Based on the way her short nails cut deep into his shoulder, she wanted him bad.
Growling, he pulled away from her only to settle his face comfortably between her legs. He’d spent so many lonely nights dreaming about this. Of course, in his dreams they were on satin sheets in a bed at the Ritz-‐Carlton. But hell, his mighty butcher block would do.
Yager slid his tongue into her hot pussy. Already so wet, he was shocked he didn’t drown. As soon as he started licking her, her hands grasped his head, her fingers digging into his scalp. He licked the lips of her pussy, teasing them with the tip of his tongue. Her back arched, so he flicked her clit and she almost shot off the butcher block.
A lot of the Ravens figured Neecy was an unresponsive, cold bitch. Taking bets on whether she simply laid there during sex, waiting for it to be over, or if she did her best to get the guy off and out so she could sleep or go hunt. Well, he was going to let them keep those delusions. Because all of this, all of her, was his. Not anyone else’s. This woman whose hips continued to surge against his face as she responded to his exploring tongue would always belong to him.
He went lower, pushing his tongue deep inside her and she groaned, deep and low, making him shudder. Did she even know what she was doing to him? Did she care?
“God, Yager.”
No, no. That wouldn’t do. He pulled away, replacing his tongue with a finger.
“It’s Will.”
“Wha…” She stopped to grunt as a second finger joined the first, her eyes closed and her head thrown back. “What?”
“My name’s Will,” he told her as he steadily fucked her with his fingers. “People I work with call me Yager. For the next twenty-‐four hours, you call me Will.”
Her hips surged forward again, now riding his fingers as they’d ridden his tongue. “Whatever,” she gasped out.
“No. Not whatever.” With his other hand he grasped her clit between thumb and forefinger. “Will. Say it.”
Neecy tightened her fingers in his hair, unwilling to let him go. “Will. Fine. Will.
Just don’t stop. God, please don’t stop!”
He didn’t. Instead he returned his tongue to her clit as he kept his fingers pumping away inside her. Her groans became louder and louder as her body began to shake. When he knew she was close, he gently grasped her clit between his lips and sucked hard. Her soft groans became a hoarse shout as she came on his face, every muscle in her body tight.
Leaning away from Neecy long enough to reach into the pocket of his bomber jacket thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, he pulled out a long line of condom packets.
Neecy focused on them and turned questioning eyes to Yager. He shrugged.
“Mike.”
“Oh.” For many, that was really the only explanation they ever needed.
In seconds, he’d sheathed his cock and yanked Neecy off the butcher block. Once again, not exactly how he’d dreamed their first time together would be. But he’d run out of patience months ago. The only thing the Norse male in him knew was that she was wet, willing, and whimpering.
Up to this point, Neecy really hadn’t had a chance to look at Yager’s cock. He’d kept the towel on and, although she felt his hard-‐on through the thick cotton, actual dimensions were lost on her. And once he threw her up on his butcher block she’d forgotten everything with that damn tongue of his getting her to make noises she didn’t think possible. Still, she didn’t get a chance to get a good look at it as Yager quickly pulled her down, immediately shoving his cock inside her.
And holy shit, but the man was huge!
Neecy yelped as he settled himself inside her. As wet as she truly was, he still stretched her. And, don’t forget, last boyfriend…Mr. Tiny Penis Man.
Yager turned and pushed her up against the much sturdier, nailed-‐to-‐the-‐floor island that stood proud and stainless steel–like in his kitchen.
“Are you okay,” he panted desperately in her ear.
It took her a moment, but Neecy suddenly realized Yager wasn’t moving. He was waiting for her. Making sure she was okay. She knew it was killing him. Every muscle on his body was rigid and sweat dripped from every pore. Still, as much as it hurt him, he didn’t want to hurt her.
Neecy wrapped her arms around Yager’s neck while one leg wrapped around his waist and the other around his calf. She leaned in and growled into his ear, “Fuck me, Will. Fuck. Me.”
She winced as his hands tightened around her body, his big fingers digging into her back. Then he pinned her to the island and fucked her like he’d just been let out of prison. Holding her tight as he mercilessly powered into her.
She couldn’t move, even if she wanted to. Even the trace of pain only enhanced the pleasure. So she held on tight to Will Yager and let him fuck her. And she may never say it out loud, but Jesus Christ, it was the best fuck she’d ever had.
Each hard thrust pushed her closer to the edge. Each rough pant made her hold him tighter. But when he whispered her name like he was praying at church and not coming like an out-‐of-‐control bus, she lost it, flying over that edge with him.
It took whole minutes before Yager could actually focus his eyes or remember his name. And the entire time, he never let Neecy go. Nor did she pull away.
How he got her to come, though…he’d never know. He stopped thinking about anything once she told him to fuck her. His mind completely shut off and his cock took over.
He actually felt embarrassed. He had more self-‐control than that. At least he did with anyone else but Neecy. Slowly, Yager pulled away from her, letting her legs drop to the floor. She almost fell, though, when he tried to release her.
“God, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “Just a little shaky.”
“Here.” He grabbed her by the waist and placed her back on the kitchen block.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Yager went to his hallway bathroom and quickly stripped off the spent condom.
He moved to the sink and turned on the tap. He splashed cold water on his face and told himself to remain calm.
True, he had Neecy Lawrence sitting in his kitchen. A naked Neecy Lawrence who he’d just had the most amazing sex he’d ever had in his entire lifetime with.
And he now had twenty-‐four hours to do that over and over and over again.
But fucking her wasn’t the prize. Keeping her was.
Neecy glanced at her watch. Damn. It wasn’t even eleven yet. She came from her eight a.m. class to here and never expected to do more than to again tell Yager she would not go out with him.
Somehow, though, she ended up naked on his butcher block.
Taking a deep breath, Neecy glanced around Yager’s kitchen. Clearly the man had money. You didn’t get an apartment like this in Manhattan without a few million to your name.
He also seemed to have a thing about stainless steel and marble. At least in his kitchen.
Neecy glanced down at herself. She had two Japanese sleeve tats on both her shoulders and upper biceps. Plus one on her right forearm. She got them to cover up her gang tattoos. She still had scars from the gunshots to her chest since Skuld liked to leave little reminders to her Daughters of where they’d come from. And she still had bruises from a brutal fight she’d had several days earlier with some idiot who’d sacrificed his own sister to activate one of Odin’s swords.