"Turn." He turned her around as his hands went to the clasp and zipper of her pants.
"There's a couch…"
"Fuck it."
"Floor." She was breathing just as hard as he was, her hands fumbling with his pants as he released hers.
"Bend over."
Her pants cleared her rear. The pale, soft, golden globes made him pause as he pushed at her shoulder blades, arching her over until she rested against the back pillow.
"Oh hell yes," he whispered as one hand moved over the soft satin flesh. "Beautiful. Just f**king beautiful, baby."
"You have a thing about butts, Lance." Her words were part moan as his other hand joined the exploration of the creamy cheeks.
"Oh, baby, you just have no idea. And this pretty butt has to be the finest work of art I've ever seen."
There wasn't so much as a blemish to mar the soft gold sheen of skin. Her ass was just plump enough for a man to hold on to, and just curved enough to make watching her walk a hobby in and of itself. He did love watching her walk.
"Lance." She jerked as his fingers slid over the tempting mounds until the tips met soft, delicious, damp heat.
"You're wet, Harmony." He stepped closer, gripping the shaft of his c**k and sliding it through the slick glaze.
"Stop teasing me…"
"But teasing you makes you that much wetter." He let the head of his c**k slide along the sweet folds until it glanced off her swollen clitoris.
Harmony shuddered.
"So warm and wet." He couldn't help but praise her. Hell, he was damned near drooling for her, and still, just the feel of her was enough to hold him spellbound.
"Lance. I need you." Her voice throbbed; aching arousal and need turned her normally vibrant tone to a rich, husky
And she needed him.
Lance lifted his head blindly as his c**k found the sweet, tight entrance to her pu**y. Her muscles gripped him, sucking him in slowly as he rose over her. His hands braced the back of the chair as his lips touched her ear.
"I love you," he whispered gently.
Harmony's cry shocked her. As he whispered those last three words, he thrust inside her, hard and heavy, pushing through sensitive tissue and gripping muscles and sending fire racing through her body.
Her back arched as she tried to straighten, only to find herself held in place by the hard hands that covered hers and the heavy chest against her back.
"You're tight, baby," he crooned at her ear as his h*ps flexed, caressing her internally as she tried to breathe. She needed to breathe. But every time she tried, he moved again, sending torturous pleasure to tear through her senses.
As she tipped her head back, rumbling cries came from her throat, as his lips caressed her jaw, his teeth raking against it and sending scalding friction to sizzle along her nerve endings.
"I need you…" She could barely speak as she tried to move her hips, fought to work herself on the length of iron impaling her.
God, his c**k was so thick it burned as it spread her internal muscles apart.
"You have me, baby." He nipped at her chin before his lips moved back to her ear.
"Every bit of me."
He began to move then, with strokes that were in no way easy or gentle. Hunger tore through both of them, sharpening the edge of arousal to desperation. She had never felt the intensity that she felt with Lance, the need for more—more pleasure, more of the emotions swirling through her chest and tightening her throat. She had never realized until this man that she needed anything beyond vengeance. What she felt now though she knew she would never be able to live without. The connection, the bonding to another person. The warmth that filled her soul with his every touch.
"There, baby…"
She whimpered as his thrusts began to increase, her fingers clenching in the fabric of the chair. One hand left hers to grip her hip, holding her steady as his c**k tunneled inside her with hard, heated thrusts.
The tingling, tormenting sensations racing from her vagina through the rest of her body had her begging for release. It was so close. She could feel it burning in her womb, in her clit, and yet he held her back, easing his thrusts, then increasing the pace, only to ease back once again.
She was growling. Strained little sounds of animalistic pleasure were coming from her throat as her back arched and she fought to tighten around him, to hold his shuttling c**k in place each time he retreated.
"Bad girl." The sharp, stinging little caress to her ass had her stilling, pausing at the additional sensation. Was it painful or pleasurable?
She pushed back against him again.
"Like that, baby?" His hand landed again, on the opposite cheek of her rear. "How pretty your little ass blushes."
The next stinging little slap was harder, the sensations flaring deeper inside her as a starburst ruptured behind her closed eyes. She tightened around him again, gasping at the extremity of the sensations racing through her.
"I told you I was going to spank you, baby."
Another slap, a hard thrust. Retreat, smack, thrust. Her senses where whipping, nerve endings screaming in need as she felt the fire building in her womb. She was close. Oh God, so close.
Then he gripped her h*ps with both hands and began thrusting inside her furiously. The hard length of his c**k separated and pulled at her muscles, caressing, inflaming sensitive nerve endings as a long, muted wail left her throat.
Her orgasm didn't just explode through her. She felt herself imploding, every cell and muscle in her body gathering, reaching then flaming through her with shocking results. Lance's cry was a distant sound at her ear. The feel of his body, covering her, holding her, shielding her as racking shudders raced through her, added to the overwhelming pleasure.
"Sweet baby," he whispered at her ear as she fought to hold him inside her, her vagina rippling along his c**k as he spurted into her a final time.
___________
Harmony was a weak-willed mess when Lance moved, sliding from her and adjusting his pants before lifting her in his arms. Her head fell to his shoulder, her eyes closing as she fought to get a handle on her emotions.
She decided she hated emotion.
He strode to the shower, quickly undressed them both and pushed her beneath the warmth of the water. She watched him as he bathed her, his hands gentle, his expression a mix of rueful lust and gentle amusement as she frowned back at him. He didn't speak, and she didn't have the energy to make enough sense of what she felt, what she could feel growing inside her soul, to discuss it. So she watched him instead, wondering at the man who knelt so easily before her to finish washing her before he turned her to the spray and began on her backside.