Page 41 of Brazilian Surrender
Then…he slapped her other buttock. “This is for tying me up.”
She bit back a smile, so weakened by imminent pleasure she couldn’t think of anything smart or cute to say. He thrust deeper into her, harder, and his finger flicked her swollen clit. “God. I’m going to come.”
“Not yet,” he said, and stopped touching her.
He flipped her on her back, then brought her up to a sitting position where she sat in front of him, her legs wrapped around him, and soon he slipped inside her again. Heaven.
“The thing is…I want every last bit of you, too,” he whispered.
She bobbed her head, sweat glistening on her forehead. He slammed into her and again touched her intimately, like only he knew how. She let a symphony of moans fly from her mouth. She could no longer contain the rush of adrenaline exploding inside or the spasms ruling her body.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her body crashing against his as he drove into her one last time. With a hoarse sound, he screamed his orgasm and his seed flooded her. Completing her. Filling her. Making her his.
