Free Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3) by Melanie Harlow Page B

never get enough, I exploded, my head dropping back, my back arching off the bed, my mouth wide open in a silent scream, my toes pointing.
    One long, low moan escaped him as my body shuddered and pulsed against his tongue and around his fingers. When the tremors finally abated, he took his mouth off me and crawled slowly up my body.
    “You’re amazing,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to grab him under the arms and pull him up faster. “But I’m greedy. I still want more.”
    “Yeah?” Getting to his knees, he picked up the condom from the bed, tore it open, and rolled it on. “What do you want now?”
    My core muscles clenched, aching and empty, at the sight of his thick, hard length. “I want to feel you. Every inch of you. Deep.”
    He braced himself over me with one arm and positioned his cock between my legs, torturing me with just the tip. “Every inch? You’ve got me so fucking hard right now, I’m not sure your sweet little body can take me that deep.”
    I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. “Try me.”
    He gave me a few more inches, a smile teasing his lips. “How’s that?”
    “Deeper.”
    He gave me a couple more. “How about here?”
    Even though it felt like that was all I could take, I opened my knees wider, tried to scoot down beneath him. “Deeper, Levi. I want it to hurt.”
    “Oh fuck.” Suddenly he slammed into me so deep and hard my eyes rolled back in my head and my feet dropped to the bed, my body fighting against the sharp twinge of pain. But he stayed there, buried to the hilt, his lips near my ear. “You shouldn’t say that to me. I’ll lose control.”
    “I want you to.” Pushing past the discomfort, I ran my hands down his back and grabbed his ass, words tumbling from my mouth in shameless abandon as he began to move inside me. “I want you to lose control. I want you to fuck me like you can’t hold back.”
    “Jesus Christ,” he growled, taking my head in his hands and grabbing two fistfuls of hair as he drove into me. “That gorgeous mouth, saying those filthy words. You’re making me crazy.”
    “Good.” I dug my nails into his flesh, daring him to lose that last thread of control, even though I gasped at the jolt of pain that rippled through me every time he hit the deepest reaches of my body. “Don’t stop.”
    “Never. I’ll fuck you as deep and hard as you want me to.” His dark eyes locked with mine. “I’ll even make it hurt, so it will feel that much better when I make you come again.”
    “Yes,” I begged, writhing in pain and pleasure beneath him. “But I want you to come, too.”
    “For the last time, this is not about what you want from me , Jillian Nixon.” He spoke right into my ear, his voice raw and raspy. “It’s about what I want from you, and right now I want to feel that sweet little pussy come all over my cock.”
    He drove me into madness again, with his words and his body, and I cried out over and over as my body convulsed around his, my fingers tight on his ass. “Yes,” he hissed, his jaw clenched. His eyes closed, and I watched his beautiful face twist briefly with agony then ease into pleasure as his body released the tension in surging, rhythmic thrusts inside me.
    He dropped his face into my neck and kissed me, his beard tickling my skin. I wrapped my legs around him and sighed, wishing we could just melt right into each other. That our time wasn’t running out. That he’d stay and we could do it all again, with a quick break for some junk food and maybe a bottle of wine. That we could fall asleep just like this afterward, and he could even stay the night.
    But I knew better than to ask.

 
    My heart pounded hard inside my chest, but it wasn’t just from exertion. It was from feeling alive—fucking bursting with it. I felt like I could scale a mountain, swim an ocean, slay a dragon. It struck me how empty sex had been during the last few years, just a release of tension and nothing