Because You Are Mine Part VII: Because I Need To (7 page)

He tore off the wrap she wore around her shoulders before he lowered her to his bed. The zipper of her sophisticated little black cocktail dress came down next.

“Arms up,” he muttered.

She complied. He tossed aside her black dress a second later.

Niall’s hips moved restlessly on the bed, instinctively trying to relieve the pressure growing at her sex when his gaze dropped over her. She wore a black bra and panty set and some thigh-high stockings. And her pearls.
As if that counted for anything
, she thought with a touch of hysteria.

Vic’s expression didn’t alter much, but his eyes blazed so hot as they toured her body that she felt sexually scorched.

“Take off your panties and move back on the bed.”

She felt like she was in a dream as she did exactly what he’d demanded. But it was a very hot, exciting dream . . . and she hadn’t the slightest desire to resist the carnal allure of it.

He covered her body with his own by the time her head hit the pillows. He palmed her thighs, spreading them to accommodate his body in the process. He immediately took possession of her mouth again. Their tongues tangled and mated wildly. His hands ran down her sides, one pausing at a silk-covered breast, the other sliding down her waist and cradling her hip.

He tilted her pelvis up and pressed himself to her, forcing her to feel the strength of his desire.

Niall moaned into his mouth. He felt so vibrant next to her, so alive. It was a dizzying sensation for someone who had been one of the walking dead for the past three years to suddenly awaken as if from a jolt of sexual electricity. He molded her breast in his palm gently, then roughly . . . always surely. Niall strained up, desperate for more of the sensation of him. Her hands ran over his back and shoulders, sliding and rubbing, consuming him with her touch.

Vic grunted at the feeling of her slender, curvy body pressing to him so tightly. Her skin felt like warm silk. Her nipple pressed into the center of his palm like a hard little dart, maddening him. The feeling of her hands moving anxiously over him blinded him with lust.

He rolled off her onto his left hip, ripping at the button fly of his jeans. He shoved them down his thighs with precise, rapid movements. His cock sprang free, stiff, tight, straining toward her. His eyes caressed her body. She was the color of pale honey, looking like she could tan easily if she chose, but refrained. She’d tasted so good . . . her skin, her mouth, her sweat.

He couldn’t wait to eat her pussy.

He winced in agonized pleasure when he moved and his cock brushed the bare, satiny skin of her thigh. She whimpered.

She reached for him, but he stopped her by grabbing both of her wrists, then transferring both of them to one hand.

The feeling of her small, cool hands on his body had enflamed him earlier. Vic didn’t think he could take it right now and maintain his control. He pushed her wrists down over her head at the same time that he reached between her thighs.

He watched her face while he burrowed his fingers through damp, silky pubic hair, dipping into the warm cream of her pussy before he spread the abundant moisture between her labia, sliding and pressing against her clit.

Her back arched up off the bed. She squirmed frantically at the restraint of his binding hand.

But he only gripped her wrists and held her tighter. He played a hard, ruthless rhythm with his fingers, plucking and strumming the nerve-packed flesh until the tension in her body broke and she cried out sharply in stunned ecstasy. Two of his fingers plunged into her tight sheath. He watched her intently as her body clamped and convulsed around him.

She was ready for him so quickly. It excited him to know that she was as hungry for him at that moment as he was for her. He stretched, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. His excitement to be inside her made him roll it on his cock in record-breaking time.

Without a word he spread her thighs and arrowed into her. Her body resisted him, but he was crazed by the sensation of her hot, narrow channel as it enclosed the thick head of his penis.

“You’re tight,” he grated. He held the base of his cock with one hand, working it into her clamping channel with subtle up-and-down motions while his hips provided a steady, hard pressure. She moaned, still in the aftershocks of her climax. Her slender body undulating and straining against him made him desperate. He thrust.

Hard.

He might have been half-crazed with lust, but he paused when he heard her cry out. His cock had burrowed less than half its length into her.

“Shhh, try to relax, baby,” he soothed. His head dropped next to hers. He pressed hot kisses along her neck, pausing to run the elegant strand of pearls that she wore between his lips, licking at the smooth globes lightly before he nipped at her tender skin. Her lips were parted when he found them, the taste between them sweet and addictive. His cock throbbed painfully inside of her as his tongue sank into her warm cavern.

Pearls and honey.

She was driving him right over the edge. Her pussy gripped at him mercilessly.

He pushed back a smooth thigh, opening her body to him, demanding admission. His thumb found her clitoris, circling, plucking, and coaxing. She groaned into his mouth and pushed up for more pressure, seating his cock farther into her body in the process.

“That’s right,” he whispered gruffly next to her damp lips. “Let me in, Niall.”

Niall cried out in sharp desire as he began to pulse his hips. His cock felt too large to be in her body, invading her, forcing her to make room for him . . . but indescribably good as well. His pressing thumb on her clit drove her further into a frenzy of lust. A friction began to build in her unlike anything she’d ever known. She began to push and rotate her hips around his cock, up and down, around, in and out, desperate to feed the mounting flame that grew and expanded in her sex and belly. Niall saw the way his lip curled, the way his light eyes gleamed as a result of her actions. She mewled in pleasure and increased the pressure against him, desperate with need.

She writhed and whimpered beneath him, begging him in a primitive fashion to take total possession of her. He accepted her wordless invitation. He drove his cock into her, pressing his balls tightly to her damp hilt, grunting in animal like pleasure. When she cried out and arched her back, he secured her wrists tighter, pushing her back to the bed.

He began to thrust into her with tight, concentrated strokes.

“You’ve got a hot little pussy, but you’re teasing me with it, aren’t you, Niall?”

Niall just shook her head when he growled out the question ominously. She was too tight with mounting pleasure, too full of him . . . too close to orgasm to speak. His cock massaged her more deeply than she’d ever been touched, stimulating her with a hard, relentless pressure. He pried her body open to make way for him, but she was wild to get him back deep every time he withdrew from her, needing to have the thick, hard knob of his penis stabbing and rubbing and demanding something from her that she had only just learned she could give.

She gasped loudly when he leaned down and encircled her silk-covered nipple in the heat of his mouth. The suction that he applied made the inferno at her sex flame higher. When he bit at the tender morsel and thrust into her hard, creating a loud smack of flesh against flesh, she exploded again.

Vic grunted savagely as he felt her squeeze and convulse around his cock in orgasm. Her heat flooded around him. His eyes crossed at the sensation.

He reached up and roughly pushed down both of the thin pieces of black silk that covered her breasts. He bent and sampled one hard, pointed crest, lashing with his tongue, sucking hard, nipping and biting with his front teeth. She tasted so good—like berries, sweet cream, and musky woman. He wanted to eat her up in two ravenous bites. When he leaned up slightly, the sight of her white, thrusting breast capped by an erect, glistening pink nipple nearly sent him over the edge.

He focused on her sweat-dampened face. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was scattered across the pillow. She stared at him with desire-glazed eyes, her breath coming in choppy, shallow pants. The muscular, tight walls of her vagina tormented him. Every time he moved out of her, she pulled and sucked at his cock, demanding that he sink back into her depths before he was ready.

He pushed back first one thigh, and then the other, into her chest and began to pound into her. She shrieked in shock. It might have been in pain. It might have been in desire.

The only thing Vic knew for certain was that she had the tightest, sweetest little pussy he’d ever ridden.

“Vic! Vic?” she cried out in disbelieving ecstasy. He rocketed into her again and again, every driving downstroke pushing her body farther and farther up on the bed until her forearms were trapped between her skull and the wrought iron headboard.

Vic paused for a moment, still fully sheathed in her, and reached between their sweat-dampened bodies. His fingers spread the lips of her outer sex wide before he ground his pelvis against the nerve-packed tissues between her labia. She shimmered around him in post-orgasmic bliss. Her whole body began to tremble and shake when he surged up against her, scraping the narrow path of hair that trailed from his taut bellybutton to the thatch around his cock against her sensitive, exposed cleft and erect clit, applying a steady, relentless pressure.

When she groaned in misery, Vic knew she shook not only in post-orgasmic bliss but also in pre-orgasmic anticipation.

She opened her eyes dazedly. Vic watched her through narrowed eyelids.

“You want to come again?”

“
Yes
,” she entreated.

He smiled at the stark evidence of her need. He used his forearm to push her knees down hard into her shoulders. She keened at the increased pressure from the altered angle of his cock stabbing deeply into her body. When he grabbed a round buttock and smacked her ass twice lightly, she cried out in surprise.

“Give it to me, then,” he demanded harshly.

Her entire body began to shudder and shake once again in release.

Vic gave a tense bark of laughter, immensely pleased and aroused when he felt her heat rush around him.

“You liked that, baby?” he rasped as he began to pound into her quivering, hot pussy with quick, ruthless thrusts. Not that he expected her to answer. She was too busy climaxing, gushing liquid heat around him and squeezing his cock until he saw only a red haze in front of his eyes. Silk and pearls aside, Niall had liked it when he had spanked her plump little ass.

He struck their flesh together rapidly now, holding back nothing, striving madly to find relief in her farthest depths. She was immobilized against the headboard. He smacked their flesh together once more, the walls of her vagina still convulsing and pulling and taunting him.

God, she was a sweet fuck, he thought dazedly in the seconds before orgasm ripped through his flesh.

He threw his head back and roared between clenched jaws, pumping her hard and fast, shooting off what felt like gallons of his semen in a gloriously scalding climax.

Niall’s eyes clenched closed at the sensation of Vic throbbing in release even as he continued to fuck her. Tears leaked onto her cheeks. The truth of the matter was that the sensation of him coming so powerfully in her body was one of the two most poignant, profoundly wonderful experiences she’d ever had in her life.

The other had been when she’d first heard the sound of her baby’s cry and felt the slight, precious weight of his damp, warm body against her breast.

This had been, by far, the craziest, most impulsive thing Niall had ever done in her life. She didn’t even know Vic’s last name.

She couldn’t regret a second of it, though. Not then. Not at that moment, when blood pounded in her veins, vibrant and hot.

She felt reborn—raw, confused, shaky . . . and utterly, completely alive.

* * *

To find out more about Beth Kery’s eight-part serial novel,
Because You Are Mine
, please click here or go to www.penguin.com/becauseyouaremine

Beth Kery
lives in Chicago where she juggles the demands of her career, her love of the city and the arts, and a busy family life. Her writing today reflects her passion for all of the above.