Free No Regrets by Claire Kent Page B

driving me crazy.
    Then he lifted his hand and brought it down with a loud slap.
    I cried out at the sharp jolt of pained pleasure.
    He waited a moment, caressing the warm flesh. Then he gave me another spank.
    “Please,” I gasped, wondering how this was me, how this person could possibly be me. “Please, again.”
    He spanked me again and then again, when I asked for another. Then once more before he rolled me over.
    He moved over me again, the erotic tension of his features held in check by his controlled scrutiny. He stretched my arms above my head, holding me restrained again. “Leslie?” he asked thickly.
    I knew what he was asking. But I didn’t want to escape from him. My vulnerability only increased the thrill and excitement. “Yeah. Josh, please!”
    He made a growling sound and devoured me with another kiss.
    I squirmed beneath him, dying for friction, for stimulation on my over-sensitive nipples and my throbbing pussy. Soon my desire was torturous, and I whimpered out incoherent pleas against his mouth.
    My wrists were slightly numb from his grip, but I kept them in place—waiting to feel his strong fingers on me again.
    He lowered his face to my breast, taking the nipple in his mouth
    “God!” I cried, as the tugs of arousal intensified at his suckling. “Oh, oh, God!”
    His bristly skin rubbed against the sensitive swell of my breast, and I rocked beneath him frantically. Just when I was about to go crazy with frustration, he released my breast and reared up over me again.
    My mouth fell open as I looked at him. He was intense and feral and so big—like some kind of warrior fresh from battle. “Oh Josh!” The words were choked on a harsh inhale.
    The smolder in his eyes turned into a blaze—like nothing I’d seen from him before. He made another guttural sound and shifted his grip on my wrists to one hand, stretching my arms straight above my head.
    “Don’t move them from right here,” he said.
    I kept my arms in place as he unfastened his pants and rolled on a condom.
    When he’d done so, he lined his cock up and thrust into me with one hard stroke.
    I cried out in pleasure at the forceful penetration. Since my legs were now freed, I tried to wrap them around his hips. Succeeded on the third try.
    My shift in position caused his cock to sink into me even more deeply. He began to thrust with hard, rhythmic drives, pushing into me, jiggling my body, shaking the bed until it squeaked.
    My orgasm spiraled up fast and hard, after the extent of my arousal and the stimulation of my shaking body and the soreness of my bottom.
    I struggled against his hands again, feeling how trapped I was beneath his power. How vulnerable I was splayed out beneath him. How tight I felt with his cock buried in my pussy.
    I came with a strangled cry, my body tensing brutally and then releasing in shudders and spasms.
    Josh grunted and jerked his head to the side, biting his bottom lip as my intimate muscles clenched ruthlessly around him. But he kept thrusting against the contractions, until he’d pushed me into another climax on the heels of my first.
    When I’d come down, he was still hard inside me, and my tightened channel could feel every twitch and shift of his cock.
    He was panting just as desperately as I was, his eyes raking over my flushed, damp face, messy hair, and naked upper body.
    “Josh,” I said, my throat sore from the cries I’d made earlier.
    “Yes?” He rolled his hips, causing me to moan at the feel of his cock rubbing against my inner walls.
    “Josh, I’ve lost the circulation in my hands.”
    He blinked. “Oh.”
    His face looked so adorably surprised that I giggled.
    He smiled—oddly self-deprecating—and released my wrists. “Sorry about that.”
    “Don’t be sorry,” I told him, shaking my hands to get rid of the buzzing. “That was incredible.” I bucked up beneath him. “And it doesn’t feel like it’s over yet.”
    “It’s not.” He slid back and thrust into me