He pressed something into my palm—a foil packet still wet from the pool. He must have got it out of his wallet before he’d stripped.
I sat up and with shaking hands ripped it open, taking out the condom. Then I leaned forward to put it on him—or at least I tried. He made it difficult by toying with my other breast and teasing my clit with his finger, making me pant and tremble with the brutal, wicked ecstasy of his touch.
Eventually I got the condom on and then he was taking over again, holding me open with one hand while he gripped himself with the other, fitting the head of his cock against my slick flesh.
He pushed inside me and I cried out at the stretch of him, the slow, aching slide of his flesh into mine. Then he gripped me, holding me still, his hips pushing upwards, forcing himself deeper, his knees pressing my thighs wider apart.
Pleasure cut like a knife and I arched again, writhing helplessly against him, my hips jerking against the relentless push of his.
But he held me there, not letting me move, making me feel every inch of his cock as he slid it out then back in, driving upwards in a hard, brutal motion that had me shuddering.
My hands tried to find something to hold onto, settling on his forearms, my nails digging into his skin as he thrust harder, deeper.
The angle meant I couldn’t quite get the friction I wanted and I’m sure he knew that. And took complete advantage of it, every thrust driving me further and further towards madness.
I could feel the orgasm approaching, so close and yet just out of reach. Moans escaped me, desperate cries for him to relieve the growing pressure.
But he didn’t. He made me wait. Pushing and pushing and pushing, until I clawed at him, twisting in his grip. Then his fingers at last found my clit and he stroked me in time with his thrusts, the pressure firm, his cock inside me achingly hard.
I exploded around him, stars shooting behind my closed eyelids, my cries echoing around the pool. It was only then that he withdrew from me and flipped me over so I was lying face down on the lounger. Then he came behind me, gripping my hips and pulling me up on my knees, sliding into me from behind.
I buried my burning face against the linen cover of the lounger and groaned, my pussy oversensitive and still pulsing with the aftershocks. But he didn’t stop and I didn’t want him to.
That first time, up in his bedroom, he’d been holding back and it was only now that I understood how much. Because he certainly wasn’t holding back any more.
He drove into me hard and fast, low guttural sounds of pleasure coming from him as he thrust, and I gripped tight onto the cushions, more stars exploding behind my eyes, a second orgasm barrelling down on me.
I loved it. I loved how he simply took what he wanted from me without asking. It meant I couldn’t fail or disappoint him, because I didn’t have to try to be something I wasn’t, or make up for something I didn’t do.
It was enough to be myself.
And then his hand slid around my hip and down between my thighs, finding my clit and stroking relentlessly, and I stopped thinking.
The orgasm broke over me, making tears sting behind my lids and sobs choke in my throat with the intensity of the sensation.
‘You’re mine, woman,’ Ajax growled from behind me, shoving me rhythmically into the cushions as he fucked me harder. ‘Understand? Only mine.’
Then his big body slammed into mine one last time before stiffening, his roar buried against my skin as he bit my shoulder.
Ajax
IMOGEN RELAXED BENEATH ME, her luscious body hot and pliant. She’d turned her head on the lounger cushions, her cheek flushed, strands of hair stuck to it. Sunlight struck gold sparks from those strands and the thick, soft lashes that rested against her skin.
She was panting.
Her pussy was clenching tight around my cock and I could taste her from where I’d bitten her shoulder, her skin salty and sweet. I could see the mark my teeth had left there too, a small bruise already darkening her pretty skin.
A dark, possessive satisfaction spread out inside me.
I’d marked her. She was mine. I wasn’t listening to that fucking voice in my head telling me that I didn’t deserve her. That she was somehow the start of the slippery slope I was going to fall down.
It didn’t matter. I’d have to let her go eventually but, until then, she was completely and utterly mine. And it felt good. It had been a long time since I’d had anything that was mine. If I ever really had.
I eased out of her then put a hand on the back of her neck, pressing lightly. ‘You okay?’ I’d been rough and demanding and she was, after all, extremely inexperienced.
‘Yes,’ she said in a scratchy voice. ‘In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been better.’
I smiled. My little one was as insatiable as I was.
‘Good.’ I pressed a little harder. ‘Wait there.’
I got off the lounger and went into the house, getting rid of the condom in the downstairs bathroom. Then I went back outside.
Imogen was curled up on the lounger cushions and as I approached she turned her head, looking up at me from underneath her lashes. She smiled, green eyes dancing in the sunlight.
That thing that kept catching me in the chest caught me again. Harder.
She turned over, lying on her back, then she flung her arms up over her head and stretched, her back arching, her toes pointed like a dancer.
So fucking sexy. I was hard again, instantly.
‘Little one,’ I murmured. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’
She opened one eye, clearly pleased. ‘Is it working?’
‘Maybe.’ I grinned. ‘Are you up for more? Because I’m not finished.’
Her eyes glittered, the hunger in them in no way diminished by the two orgasms I’d already given her. ‘Good. I was hoping you’d say that.’ She rolled onto her side, facing me. ‘Tell me what you want next.’
Perfect. She was absolutely goddamn perfect.
I put her onto her back next then came over her on my hands and knees, my head between her legs so I could eat her out. Then I had her suck me at the same time, telling her she couldn’t come unless I did.
She managed the task pretty well considering I had my tongue in her pussy the whole time, proving that the woman could clearly concentrate extremely well when given the right incentive.
After we’d recovered, I gathered her up into my arms and took her inside to the en suite bathroom next to my bedroom. Pulling her into the shower, I washed her, running my hands all over her satiny skin before lifting her up and fucking her slowly against the tiled wall until she sobbed with pleasure.
By that stage the day was edging into late afternoon and she was starving, and so was I. So I took her down to the kitchen, where I made us both a BLT.
She insisted on watching me closely as I cooked the bacon, her bright eyes alight with interest. Then she demanded to have a turn pushing the bacon around in the pan so I handed the spatula to her and let her try.
‘Please tell me you’ve at least cooked something,’ I commented as she poked at the bacon.
‘Nope,’ she said, completely unashamed. ‘Not a thing. Dad had a lady