Page 87 of Wicked Burn

“Hold steady, baby,” she heard Vic whisper gruffly, as if at a distance. “Hold on . . . just let me . . .”

Niall pushed her ass against him, desperate for him to fill her so that she could finally find the fulfillment he’d promised. She stretched to accommodate him, but her hunger and her need to harbor him were so great that she felt relatively little pain. When she heard Vic curse, and his fully embedded cock jerked in such an intimate place in her body, she dived headfirst into the dizzying depths of orgasm.

Vic told himself to shut his eyes as Niall screamed and her entire body started to ripple and shudder in climax. He’d never felt her come this powerfully. The sensation was incredible, and sufficient in and of itself to have him howling in orgasm if he let his restraint snap free. But he couldn’t bring himself to do either. Instead, he tortured himself by watching the intensely erotic sight of Niall coming while his cock was buried to the hilt in her ass. Her supremely tight, muscular channel milked his cock mercilessly, as though it had a mind of its own and was desperately thirsty for the quenching fountain of his cum.

By the time her electrical convulsions waned, sweat dripped between the ridges of his abdomen muscles. Wondering if he was some kind of masochist, he reached between her thighs and thrust two fingers into her pussy.

“Fuck, yeah,” he muttered almost unintelligibly. Silky liquid gushed from her warm channel, but with a quick flick of his fingers he realized that her entire exterior was drenched as well. All of her pubic hair was wet, but around her puffy labia and swollen clit she dripped with juices.

He snarled with feral arousal and pinched a luscious lip, making her ass jump with surprise. He came down over her, supporting himself with his arms on the headboard.

She howled when he started to thrust in and out of her, but Vic could tell she did so in the deepest arousal, not pain. Or at least he hoped he wasn’t projecting his experience onto her, because it felt so decadently good to fuck her hot little ass that he didn’t think he could have stopped himself if he tried.

He was a goner, to be sure.

It seemed as if his whole world quaked for the next moments as he rocketed into her again and again, and she met him thrust for thrust. She took him on a hedonistic fantasy ride of a lifetime, allowing him to plunge into her forcefully time and again, and sending her butt up eagerly for more every time he withdrew. Niall was so small that he’d never have guessed she’d have been able to take such a thorough, rough ride, but she did.

God, did she ever.

Sweat beaded on his belly and spilled onto Niall’s glistening back and ass with each powerful crashing impact of their bodies. It got so that Vic couldn’t have formulated his own name in his mind, he’d become such a primitive creature of pure, driving lust.

Still, the sound of Niall screaming, the sensation of her contracting around him as she climaxed once again pierced his awareness loud and clear. As if he’d been given some kind of long-awaited, desperately sought-for sign, he smacked his pelvis into her ass one last time, pressed her plump cheeks tightly against his balls, and roared as orgasm tore through him.

He poured himself into her endlessly, not realizing until later that every last defense that he’d erected from the first moment he’d laid eyes on Niall Chandler had just been incinerated to a fine-grained ash.


Half an hour later Niall came out of Vic’s bathroom after having washed up. She still felt a little disoriented from their lovemaking. It had taken both of them a good twenty minutes following their scorching climaxes to find the strength to move. Neither of them had done more than grunt in exhaustion as they clung to each other like two survivors of a chaotic storm. A few minutes ago Niall had stumbled to the bathroom, but Vic still lay on his side on the bed, naked and beautiful and obviously completely sated.

Niall couldn’t quite identify the strange feeling that overcame her as she studied him. Only his singular gray eyes moved as he watched her slowly cross the room toward him. For some reason Niall was reminded of the first time they’d made love, when they’d crashed into each other’s universes so wholly, so brilliantly, and afterward how they had been so separate . . . so far from each other.

No, that wasn’t entirely correct. In fact, Niall had never felt closer to Vic in her life. Her eyes caressed his long, lean body, loving every taut plane and hard ridge with her gaze. The heavy feeling inside of her swelled until it felt as though her chest would burst.

It was the knowledge that she didn’t know how he felt about her that was making her so uncertain. Or maybe she did suspect, and that was what made her so heart sore.

Something flickered across Vic’s face as he stared at her.

“Are you okay?” he rasped.

She nodded quickly.

His brow furrowed, and he sat up on his elbow.

“You’re not . . . hurt or anything, are you?”

“Of course not,” she mumbled. Her cheeks flushed hot when she thought about what they’d just done in that bed. It amazed her how her desire for him transformed her into a wild, carnal creature she barely recognized. It took about two seconds of Vic touching her, and she morphed into that alternate existence completely.

“Then come here,” he demanded softly.

Niall stepped forward at the sound of his compelling voice, but something made her waver. What was it? What had started to plague her consciousness ever since she’d gone into the bathroom a few minutes ago? Her eyes fell on the empty bag that still lay in the bedside table, crumpled and forgotten.

But she hadn’t forgotten.

She quickly stepped over to the side of the bed and bent to find her pajama shorts. She pulled them up over her legs.