"My sweet Anna. You're all mine," he rasped out against her lips.

"And you're mine."

Until that moment, she could have sworn he was still holding something back, that he was still worried about hurting her. But after her own possessive declaration, something in the man holding her changed.

A moment later, her hands were back in his, pulled over her head, and he was levered above her, driving into her with such heat, and power, that she not only lost her breath with every thrust, but as the pleasure coiled tighter in her belly, in the tips of her br**sts, in the vee between her thighs, she actually begged for him to take her harder, faster, deeper.

And he did, each thrust taking her higher, closer to the peak.

She'd thought he'd been big when she'd first taken him into her mouth, when he'd pushed between the folds of her vagina. But now, on the verge of his release, he was a throbbing mass of veins and heat and male arousal. Anna swore she could feel her body actually react to his impending climax by both relaxing and clenching her inner muscles. Relaxing to let him in even deeper. Then clamping down on him to keep him inside, to keep the incredible sensations roaring through her.

"Anna."

The rough, ragged sound of his voice as he came sent her flying over the edge with him.

And then his mouth was on hers again and she was thrown into another climax, spiraling off and just barely holding on to the edge of reason.

Chapter Six

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Anna woke up curled within Cole's strong arms. One of his hands was threaded into her hair, the other on her chest, his open palm resting directly over her heart.

They weren't sleeping like two people who'd had a one-night stand. Anna wasn't trying to figure out how to squeeze out from beneath Cole without waking him up. She wasn't berating herself for her foolish behavior.

Instead, she was relishing the comfort of being held by a man who had given her not just pleasure, but something else that she hadn't even realized she needed: A window into the woman who had been waiting inside her all along, a woman who was at least a little bit brave and adventurous.

And, boy, had she been rewarded for that bravery again and again with his mouth and hands--and then his penis.

Thinking back on everything he'd done to her the night before made her body heat up again, her skin pricking with intense awareness. Comfort shifted to arousal, and with that shift came the realization that Cole was hard and throbbing against her hips where he was spooning her.

Even after he'd climaxed, his penis had been larger than any she'd seen before. Erect, it was mind-blowing, both in length and girth. Somehow she'd been able to stretch for him. As the memories of what they'd done came back to her the morning after with perfect clarity, her stomach clenched and arousal spilled through her. Readying her for his touch, just as it had the night before.

Only this time, she didn't want to be tied up. She didn't need it. Not when she knew just what Cole's touch, his kisses, did to her. Not when she wanted to touch him, kiss him, lick him, nip at him, the way he'd done all those things to her when she'd been his silk-bound captive.

Pure feminine instinct had her threading her fingers through his hand on her breast and shimmying her hips into his hard heat.

A low, almost inaudible groan came from behind her and she smiled. Until last night she hadn't known that there was a super-sexual woman lying in wait inside her. But now that she did, she found that she wanted to expose her more fully in the arms of the man to whom she'd inexplicably given her trust.

Trusting him wasn't something that should have made sense, but maybe, she thought, as the pad of his thumb rubbed light circles around her areola, that had been her problem all along.

She'd wanted everything to make sense. Had insisted on it. But maybe love didn't make sense.

Not that she was in love with Cole. She liked him. She lusted for him. But love? No. She wasn't there yet. Not after only ten hours together.

But could she fall in love with him one day?

If he always treated her the way he had last night, as though she were a precious gift to be cherished, worshiped? Then, yes, she probably wouldn't be able to stop herself from falling in love with him.

A hairy, muscled leg pushed between hers as Cole used his thigh to open her up to him.

Anna could now feel exactly how wet she was as her slick flesh--he'd called it a pu**y, and instead of being horrified, the word had only aroused her more--rubbed against him. Her clit was already swollen and she loved the way the hair on his leg rasped against the hard nub where all of her pleasure seemed to be centered.

Before she realized it, she was riding his thigh, grinding into it harder and harder as his hand on her breast stopped teasing the puckered nipple and started squeezing it in earnest.

Oh God. She couldn't believe it. She was going to come.

After the way Cole had drawn out her climax the night before, after experiencing the exquisite release, she had thought she'd be sated for a while--longer than a handful of hours, certainly. Never in a million years did she think she'd be getting herself off against his leg first thing in the morning...or that the pleasure would be even greater for the slightly wicked nature of it.

Reaching for the peak, Anna squeezed her eyes shut and arched into his hand at her breast. Her breath caught in her throat as the first explosions started to rock through her. The shockingly wide, hard pressure of Cole's c**k head against her labia stilled her. But then hard-tipped fingers came down over her clit, throwing her into an even harder climax, just as Cole pushed into her snug channel.

Still slightly sore from the previous night's lovemaking, her internal tissue tried to protest the invasion, but her continued desire for the man now taking her so roughly--so wonderfully--overpowered that protest with a flood of moisture to ease his passage.

"Open up for me, sweet Anna," he urged her in that sinfully hot voice that would have turned her insides into a puddle if they weren't already there.

She could feel how tightly her internal muscles were squeezing his hard shaft despite how much she wanted him inside of her. She tried to take a deep breath, but all that did was tighten her down on him further.

"I want to," she whispered, and she did. "I'm trying," she said, and she was. "Help me,"

she begged him, still pleading with him for her pleasure, even past the night hours.

Holding himself perfectly still inside her, not nearly all the way there but still so big she thought she might burst from the exquisite pressure, she felt his tongue move across the top of her shoulder, one long, smooth, wet stroke all the way up her neck to her earlobe. Without any effort on her part at all, her muscles unclenched and let go of their tight grip on him.




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