“Damn, your body is incredible,” he said, molding them in his palms. “Your breasts are so fucking perfect. They drive me crazy.”

I sank my fingers into his hair, my nails scratching his scalp when he flicked his tongue over one of them, and I totally lost it. I threw my head back, and the act of breathing escaped me.

He licked, lightly at first, and then fastened his mouth over the hard point, sucking, making a circular motion with his tongue. I growled with more need. I didn’t realize that he’d rolled my dress down completely until it puddled around my ankles on the floor.

He wrapped his strong arms around me, cocooning me within his warm, perfect muscles. A sob escaped me when he sat back, his mouth leaving my body, but he drew me closer, drawing me onto his lap until I straddled him. His erection, hard and insistent, pressed through the V of my panties, straight into my core.

And he kissed me again. Harder. Deeper. Deeper than I thought possible. The stubble on his jaw was a welcome pain, rubbing my chin raw.

In the darkness, the only sounds that could be heard were that of kissing, wet and insistent, and breathing, hard and fast and tortured. I straddled him, thighs spread wide over him, his hands jammed under my ass, caressing it, thumb lightly rubbing its way up my slit.

“How many times do you want to come tonight?” he growled into my mouth.

I bit his bottom lip as I considered the question. What was a reasonable number? I had no clue. I remembered how my teachers used to respond in school whenever we asked something they didn’t know the answer to. They answered a question with a question. “How many times do you want me to?”

His pupils dilated, his eyelids heavy, he studied me for a second, before licking my lips and grinding his erection into me.

“You’re unbelievable, Jule. I’m glad I have you the whole night because I don’t know if I’m going to get enough of you, even then.”

He crushed his mouth onto me, and in a blink, I was on my back, taking his weight. His mouth sank into the skin on my neck, vampire-like, biting and tasting as he delivered nibbling kisses to the hollow of my throat. As his mouth worked, his hand stroked a circuitous route over my breasts, down my torso, over my abdomen. I arched into his touch, pushing my center up to him, wanting his hands there.

He sensed my desire, so in tune was he with what was going on in my head and my body. “What do you want?” he asked, his breath hot on my skin. “Put my hand where you want it, Jule.”

Jule. I loved how he said my name like that, so breathy and hard and raw, like he wanted me so bad. Like I was a precious jewel to him.

Heaving a breath, I took his hand and guided it under the thin strap of my thong so that he was cupping my sex, his fingers resting on the fine, curly hairs there. He stroked it gently, not invasively, just barely, as if cautiously asking for the invitation to proceed.

I sucked in a breath, knowing that once I gave him that invitation, all bets were off. I wasn’t sure I could trust myself not to lose all control and do something embarrassing.

I couldn’t help it. I wanted it too much. I spread my legs apart slightly, giving him the all clear.

He pressed his fingers deeper between my legs, stroking my mound as he kissed me. I ran my hands up his rock-hard chest, realizing the incongruity of it all. I was nearly naked, and he was still wearing most of his tuxedo. I touched his tie, wondering if I pulled on it, would that make it come loose? I didn’t have much experience with bow ties. I decided to take the chance. I yanked.

Nothing happened.

He chuckled. “If you want me naked, all you have to do is ask,” he said, lifting up onto his elbow and ripping the tie loose with one quick movement. He undid the first couple of buttons with one hand. “But I’m much more interested in what’s happening here.”

I arched into his touch when his hand found me again, his fingers sliding down my wet folds, his thumb brushing over my clit. A groan, low and raw, escaped me, growing louder as his mouth closed over a nipple just as a finger slipped into my body.

All the breath left me.

I fisted his dress shirt on his shoulders and sank my teeth into the starchy white cotton to suppress an animalistic shriek.

“You’re even more beautiful now,” he rasped, adding a second finger. “I hope every man you’ve ever let in here has told you that.”

Not quite.

He feasted on my nipples again, licking and sucking as my hands clutched at the bed’s comforter. I’d wanted to undress him, but now I arched and bucked to the feeling of him. His hand moved, the knuckles grazing my inner walls as he withdrew them slowly, only to thrust back, making me wail.

He was a musician, playing me as he would an instrument. And I surrendered to his skill. Kissing, nibbling, licking, and fucking me with his fingers. I moved in rhythm with him, unable to do anything but move like a puppet on his string.

He moved faster, harder, biting my breasts as his fingers pushed me toward a cliff I couldn’t see. I was building, racing, clawing… and then he was gone.

I cried out, my body feeling his sudden absence. But before I could totally crumble, he put on a show that captivated me and made me forget everything I’d known before. He was a god. Or at least the epitome of what a human form should be. And I worshipped him with my eyes as he unveiled himself inch by inch. He yanked his shirt over his head and unbuckled his pants, pushing them and his underwear to the floor.

And holy shit.

Time stopped.

His cock popped free, long and thick and pointing straight at me. The sight of it made my mouth water even though his size was more than a little intimidating.

Not that I had much to compare it to. What I did know was that he made Colton Something-or-other, football god and my biggest crush from high school, look like a newborn babe. Zachary the debonair bazillionaire had the biggest, hardest, longest monster of a cock I’d ever seen.

How was this not Leah’s type?

He swept a shock of his brown hair aside on his forehead, his nostrils flaring as he reached down and dragged a finger over my hip, hooking my thong. Very slowly, as if we had all the time in the world, he slipped the flimsy scrap of material over my hips, down my thighs before lifting one leg, then the other, removing it entirely. He tossed them… somewhere. Who really cared?

The intense way he was gazing at me, I didn’t think I’d ever care about anything else again.

He laid on his back and crooked a finger at me.

I sat up, sliding half of the way, dropping a knee on the other side of his hips. He scooped a hand around my waist and dragged me up onto his middle. I groaned, as the length of his cock pressed urgently against my sex. His eyes were pure fire as he swept them over my face, down to my breasts. He placed a hand on each of my hips. “Ready?”

I nodded. I think. Maybe.

He reached under his head, under the pillow, and produced a condom packet. Ever the prepared boy scout. Ripping it open with his teeth, he said, “Want to do the honors?”

I just blinked, unable to believe that I didn’t think of it myself. I’d been taught about safe sex from a very young age, and I knew to use protection. I said I’d never be one to get a disease or have an unplanned pregnancy. No, not me. That’d never happen to me. But here I was, caught in the throes of passion, all sane thought had completely drained away. “Um. You can.”

He rolled it on, easily, expertly. And it was unexpectedly sexy to watch his big hands touch himself so intimately. I never could’ve dreamed of doing it so well, since the last one I’d done was on a banana in Sex Ed class.

When he was fully sheathed, he caught my ass and lifted me up. As if I’d done this hundreds of times, I instinctively took his cock, lifting it until it nudged against my entrance.

He growled, his jaw set tight. “Slide onto me. Real slow. You’re small and tight. I don’t want to break you, baby.”

Right. This was no fucking banana, that was for sure. That thing could permanently wound me, rip me apart.

It didn’t matter. I wanted it too much. I’d happily accept the pain.

He applied just the smallest bit of pressure, but it was really just me, pushing onto him. His tip touched my folds, and I adjusted, finding the right angle and pressed down a bit more.

I gasped as my body opened for him, stretching impossibly wide.

It didn’t hurt.

No, feeling him pulsing beneath me, inside me, only made me more ravenous.

More. I needed more.

My eyes held his, clinging desperately, widening as I took him in, feeling myself stretch all the more. He was so long, hard, brimming with the pulse of life. Eyes fastened on mine, he gazed at me with awe as he brought his hands up my sides, to my breasts.

I moaned softly as I took the last of him in.

“Okay?” he asked and lifted a hand to my face, twisting a lock of my hair.

I nodded.

He groaned and sat up, twisting my hair at the nape and grabbing it in two vicious handfuls as he rocked into me. I was the one on top, but he was controlling this ride, pushing into me, setting the rhythm. I let him. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it damn right, striking a chord in me that had never been hit before. I felt it with every thrust. All I had to do was wrap my arms tight around this beautiful man and enjoy the ride.

And damn, did I enjoy it. The friction against my clit was spiraling out to my extremities, turning my entire body into a bundle of nerves. Every time he rocked his hips into me, it just brought me more and more pleasure. I felt myself growing wetter and wetter, my juices pouring out of me.

He dragged his hands down until they spanned my waist as he drilled into me, his eyes fastened on my breasts, watching them sway to the rhythm. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead as he guided me up and down, again and again, faster, faster, until the bed was shaking and the headboard pounding against the wall.

I ran my hand down his smooth chest. He had just a smattering of hair on his pectorals, and now, it was damp and dark with sweat. I let my mouth wander, hot and wet, over his skin, sucking and licking and thrashing on him as we moved more and more erratically. My teeth dug into his shoulder; maybe I drew blood. It didn’t matter. It was so hot, so wet, so good. Unlike anything I’d ever felt or even believed was possible.

And then it just built to the head. One moment, we were thrashing together, in tune, two hearts as one, fucking and biting and moving and growling, and the next moment, it shifted. We were compressing, then expanding. He shuddered, cock jerking inside me, our wet bodies fused together with sweat even as we were coming apart inside. I felt myself flying over that edge, soaring and releasing and spasming in deep, rolling waves.

Coming. I was coming again. Harder than last time, a thousand times harder.

Holy shit.

He’d asked me how many times I wanted to come that night. Right then, the answer was… a million. I wanted to feel that, again and again, and again.

“A million.” When he gave me a questioning look, I explained, “I want to do this a million times.”

He let out a groan that was partly a laugh, tensing as he held onto me, his head falling onto my shoulder. I was still coming, the waves subsiding, but my nipples were erect, and every pore on my body was screaming in glory. Then he rolled me over, murmuring words I couldn’t quite hear into my hair as he thrust a few more times for good measure, retriggering my orgasm…

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