Page 50 of Great White
“Harder,” I press.
“No, like this.” The pressure and speed of his hand remains unchanged.
I try to tap into my orgasm, but it seems so far out of reach. I need more. I need harder, faster, brutal, but Tate doesn't waver.
I whimper, exasperated with frustration. Then, I feel his lips on my shoulder. I flutter open my eyes and find his right there, wide and alive, looking straight at me. I concentrate on him. On those beautiful, round eyes that see me with wonder.
Something inside me relaxes, or connects, I’m not sure which. I just know the pleasure unexpectedly spreads like fire as we stare at each other. The orgasm that felt so far out of reach is now suddenly speeding straight for me. I brace myself for impact, powerless under its force.
The sensations hit from all angles, a concentrated surge directed by Tate’s fingers. We never take our eyes off each other as I come. As I moan and cry and shudder from his touch. My being completely and utterly his.
I’m left soaking wet and spent on the bed, but our eye contact never wavers. My cheeks heat under his gaze from a sudden onset of insecurity. I feel vulnerable. My guard is down. He could, if he wanted, in this moment, have the power to hurt me.
My heart hammers so hard, I’m afraid he can hear it.
If he detects something is wrong, he doesn't play on it. He just swipes the tip of his nose up and down my cheek before bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting the remnants of my orgasm.
“My new favorite flavor in the entire world.”
“Is just that small taste enough?”
“Big or small, it will never be enough.” He slides on top of me. “I need to be inside you,Tiburona.”
“I need you inside me.” I open myself, mind, body, and soul. Just for a moment. Just to let Tate in for one fleeting moment. He settles between my thighs, and I brace for a hard, fast fuck. It’s what I always expect, but I should have known. This is Tate. Nothing has been hard or fast thus far.
He slides into me slowly, making sure I feel every long, thick spine-tingling inch of him. My eyes flutter as he fills and stretches me, using a staggering amount of restraint. His cock so hard and rigid, it’s like being penetrated by a silk-covered rod of cement. He pins my hands down, entwining his fingers with mine. With his upper body hovering above me, he thrusts slow and deep, drawing his cock all the way out, and then plunging all the way back in. It’s maddening. The measured movements, the overdose of stimulation. I’m tuned in to every inflamed nerve in my body. Ones I didn’t even know existed.
I squeeze Tate’s fingers from the erotic stress. We’re both strung so tight, every muscle tense and taut, the wall of my pussy straining, fighting to keep him inside me.
“Ah!” I cry out when he slams into me harder, a tortuous riot erupting in my womb. “More, faster. Stop holding back.”
“I’m not holding back.” He circles his hips, and I fall deeper into the sexual abyss. “I have been fantasizing about you for months. I’m going to enjoy you.” He drops a kiss on my neck. “I want to hear you moan, and listen to you sigh, and make you scream. When you think about a man, the only image I want you to see is me.” His lustful eyes flash with possession. “Nadaré con el tiburón por miedo a su mordedura.”
I’ll swim with the shark, unafraid of her bite.
Tate lowers himself and kisses me. Finally kisses me. He’s made me moan, and now he’s made me sigh. His lips are soft, but the kiss is rough. Full of passion, and frenzy, and need. I wrap my arms and legs around his firm, muscled body, our tongues engaging in carnal warfare.
Tate holds me tighter as the kiss fuses us, his stone-cold control unraveling. Our hips undulate together now, creating an animalistic kind of friction.
His pelvis rubs against my clit as he moves inside me, stimulating my ravenous desire. That gnawing ache returns as the pent-up orgasm rapidly grows, grappling for its release.
“Come on me,” Tate grates out with a raspy, sex-fueled voice. “Come all over me. Come for me, and I’ll come for you.”
Something about that statement touches me deep. It reaches a place that has been left barren.
“Fuck me harder, and I’ll come. Don’t hold back. Give me everything.”
Tate clutches my face for one last, scene-stealing kiss before letting himself loose. I spread my thighs wide, opening myself up to him. We fuck so hard, the headboard shakes, but neither of us cares. All that matters is what’s happening between us. The shared climax that’s impending. The mixing of free spirit and guarded soul.
“Tate . . . oh fuck . . . Tate!” I scream out, scratching at his back as my insides erupt with a supreme ecstasy. I shake in his arms as my pussy throbs and my core burns, an inferno roaring inside of me.
The echo of my heartbeat pounds in my ears as he keeps his promise. Coming for me the same way I came for him. Expelling a deafening sound of pleasure. “Dove,” he moans my name insufferably as he slows his pace, his expression communicating he is somewhere far, far away. Tate sinks down on top of me, cupping my cheek with one hand. He kisses me dreamily with his eyes still closed and muscles relaxed.
No man has ever kissed me so tenderly after sex before. No man has ever kissed me like that period.
I watch him as he lays there, content. There’s so much happening inside me right now I can’t decipher one emotion from the other. They’re all blending together like running watercolor.
I dig my fingers into Tate’s dark hair and just hold on to him. For the first time in years, I have let someone in. I have decided to trust. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to express to Tate what a huge step that is for me. I think on some level, though, he may already know.
