Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 87

Wounds she hasn't bared, whispers that singe the air before we sleep each night, but I don't care.

I just want her, secrets and all. I'm not one for making love.

Usually, I like to pull a girl's hair as I fuck her from behind or pin her hands above her head as I wring one orgasm out of her after the next.

Now, I don't want any of that.

I want her to know how much this last night means to me. I want to try, hopelessly, to fuck her out of my system.

When I tumble her down on the bed, I take my sweet time, tracing the outline of her lips with my fingers.

I've already explored every inch of her skin, yet I slowly rediscover it tonight, letting my hands roam wild, hungry knuckles grazing her skin.

I squeeze her flesh like clay, wishing I could leave the imprints of my greed on it forever.

My tongue follows, mapping her with every moan, teasing and tormenting and leaving her dizzy.

"Patton—God!" she cries out real sweet for me.

Damn, when I finally reach between her legs, she's drenched and ready.

But before I can use my tongue there and bring her off, she grabs my hair and pulls.

"I want you in me," she whispers, wrapping her legs around me. "I want to feel you fill me now, Patton. Please."

If there's a man alive who can resist a plea like that, he's a god. Me, I'm a mere mortal.

A fucking chump for a beautiful woman with a prettier soul begging me to turn her inside out.

Swallowing a growl, I grasp my cock, teasing it against her hot little cunt as long as I can stand.

She's so wet it's hard not to slide right in.

When she gasps louder, I press my free hand over her mouth.

"Quiet," I snarl. "Look at me, Salem. Tonight, you give me your eyes and your voice."

She nods, her eyes rolling back in her head as I push into her, one fierce inch at a time.

I clench my teeth.

I've never had my nerves fire like they do when I take her.

There are terrible seconds where I'm afraid I'll lose control and blow my wad like a virgin.

Thankfully, I'm not that wrecked. Barely.

She already knows to play with herself, the little minx.

She rubs her clit, using her other hand to pinch one nipple as she smiles up at me. She might as well be waving red at a raging bull.

I snap.

My hips go wild, pounding into her, crashing my way through one raging climax and pulling a second one out of her before the first ever ends.

I can't stand to silence her anymore.

My hand slips down, catching her by the throat, just enough to feel her pulse raging under my fingers while she comes like a painting, lively and red-faced and undone.

Her pussy clings to my cock, tightening, jerking me off while I thrust. I'm too far gone to be ashamed that I can't last any goddamned longer. My hips lunge, I bury myself balls deep, and erupt.

I finish inside her with a guttural noise that's more animal than man.

We both spill our souls into the night, screaming and roaring, waking whatever dead are long buried and forgotten in the desert hills.

The cool breeze nips my back against the mingled sweat and water from the pool, but our skin feels molten where it touches.

I've officially left the building—hell, the whole fucking planet—until I feel an angel's touch slowly stroking my face as I try to catch my breath.

"Hey." She runs her fingers across my face. "Hey, Patton?"

I open my eyes, falling into the hazel wonder of her gaze underneath me.

"Are you okay?" she whispers.