The Dare Collection January 2020. Lauren Hawkeye

and slowly rolling it down over his cock, still glistening from my mouth.

      Then he looked down at me and put his hand out, his palm settling on my stomach, the heel of his hand pressing lightly on my clit. Bolts of fire ignited as he pressed down, pleasure licking up inside me. I gasped, my hips lifting automatically into his hand, wanting more, wanting harder.

      But he took his hand away. ‘Roll over.’

      I sucked in a shaky breath and did as I was told, the wooden floor pressing against my hard, achingly sensitive nipples. But the rest of my senses were completely focused on the demanding man behind me, breathless with excitement about what he was going to ask of me next.

      I jumped when his hands settled on my hips and he hauled me up onto my knees, leaving my face pressed to the floor.

      ‘Legs apart,’ he ordered, one knee nudging the inside of mine and forcing them wider.

      I couldn’t stop shaking and I started to pant, his heat behind me a tease and a temptation.

      Then his hands were between my legs, spreading apart the folds of my sex, and I felt his cock push against me. There was no delicious teasing now. He thrust in hard, penetrating me deep before sliding out, then thrusting in again.

      Pleasure spread out in a sharp wave and I shut my eyes as it washed over me, rolling me over and over, swamping me.

      He thrust deeper, harder, the slap of his flesh against mine combining with my ragged breathing and the rough, masculine sounds of his own pleasure echoing off the walls.

      My hands had spread out onto the floor, my nails digging into the wood as if I could hold on to it, stop myself from being washed away in the flood of sensation. But it was futile. He moved faster, my body shuddering against the wood, rubbing against my nipples and my knees. It was painful and yet somehow incredibly erotic at the same time.

      I gasped as he shoved himself deeper, his hands gripping my hips so hard they were going to leave bruises. But I didn’t care. I wanted bruises. I wanted all the evidence I could get that he’d taken what he needed from me.

      I hadn’t been able to give to anyone before, but now I could and I wanted to give him everything.

      And he took it with both hands, shoving himself into me, his fingers digging into my flesh, bruising my knees and setting free my heart.

      But it wasn’t all for him and I should have known that even now, even while he was taking, he still couldn’t stop himself from giving. Because, just when I thought I was going to have finish myself off, he reached around and found my clit, his finger pressing down hard.

      ‘Come, Thea,’ he growled.

      And because I was his to command I did, sobbing against the floor, barely aware of his own roar of release as he followed me.