“Annabel,” I croak. I grip her thighs, holding her captive for my rough assault. If I could hold back, I would, but it’s impossible. Everything I learned in my youth about being a skilled and tender lover is lost.
I’m the monster now, the beast. All I can do is rut like a wild animal.
Unbelievably, Annabel doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s as frenzied as I am, crying out, fisting the bedcovers. I pick up her wrists and pin them over her head. She rolls her hips, moans wantonly. I pound so hard, her ass bounces on the bed, and the bed itself skids across the room until it hits the far wall.
“Gotta fuck you. Gotta fuck you so hard,” I rumble.
“Yes, yes, Charlie.”
I love the way she gives herself to me. The same way she did back in her apartment-with total abandon, total willingness. It feeds me, makes my drive to take her even stronger.
And I want it all. Some base instinct in me, the beast in me, wants to claim every part of her body, every orifice.
I pull out and flip her over, giving her ass a hard slap.
“Oh!” Her cry of surprise only makes my throbbing dick harder. There’s lubricant in the bedside table drawer. I bought it last week when I jacked off twenty times thinking about my beautiful handler. I lunge for it, squeeze an ample amount over my cock.
My brain’s telling me no. Trying to put on the brakes, but the wolf won’t listen. He wants to claim. Needs to claim. He’s dying to claim. And for some reason, taking her ass is important. The final fucking frontier.
I squeeze some over her anus, she jerks, and looks over her shoulder at me. I can tell by her wide eyes she’s an anal virgin. I should stop now. Ask permission. Talk about it.
I try to speak, but the words come out as gibberish. All I can decipher is her name. And there seems to be the attempt at a question. Something like “IneedtofuckyourasscanIfuckit Annabel?”
I’m already rubbing my thumb over her anus, massaging the tight ring of muscles open.
“Charlie?” There’s fear in her voice-fear I should heed.
Instead, I’m making her promises. “I’ll make it good, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it good.”
My thumb enters her, and she moans, relaxes for me.
“Good girl. Let me in.” I fuck her with my thumb until the muscles have loosened and stretched, and she’s used to the sensation. Then I line my lubed cock up with her back pucker. “That’s it, baby. Take my cock.”
She whines a bit but lets me in, and I don’t know how, but I manage to go slow, slow, slow. I fill and stretch her, easing in, inch by inch.
“Fucking Christ, Annabel. Christ!” I’m lost-in awe of her trust, her total allowance.
She wriggles her hand under her hips, and I move to help her, covering her fingers with my own, rubbing her clit as I pump into her ass.
“Charlie… Charlie. Oh, Charlie.”
“That’s it, sweet girl. You’re taking me so well.”
Her pussy is beyond juicy. It’s the wettest, most swollen piece of heaven I’ve ever felt. I flick my finger against her clit as I claim her ass.
My balls draw up tight, thighs start to quake.
“Yes, Annabel. Fuck, yes.” I shove three fingers in her pussy as I come, hoping to give as good as I got. Her muscles flutter against them, so I know she came too.
I’m delirious. Grateful and satisfied and still crazed for her all at once. I pull out, but I haven’t had enough.
Annabel
CHARLIE TURNS me around again and fists the hair at the top of my head. He uses it to tip my chin up and kisses me thoroughly. No, it’s less a kiss and more a devouring. He takes my mouth, drags his lips along my jaw, down my neck. He bites my shoulder.
“Fuck, Annabel. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”
Tears pop into my eyes at that. The rough admission seems so out of character for the secret agent who never shows his cards.
I’ve never felt this way with anyone before either. I’ve never even experience one-tenth of this much passion. Charlie is rough but so self-assured. Yeah, I was scared to try anal, but I trusted him. He’s good at everything he does. And he was definitely expert in that respect.
My pussy and anus throb a bit, but it a delicious, well-used sort of way. I certainly received as much pleasure as he took-maybe more.
He pulls back and just stares down at me, still holding me captive by the hair. I love being at his mercy-knowing his body is a trained weapon, that he’s capable of subduing me in a myriad of ways. One yank and he could snap my neck.
But he won’t.
He’s here to protect me. He may have just given up his job for me. Hell, his life is probably forfeit now.
That’s why I wanted to thank him with the blowjob while Sarah and Grady are out. It’s not because I couldn’t stop thinking about the frenzied way he took me yesterday up against the wall or because I needed him to help me forget again.
“Funny,” I touch his cheek, “your eyes look blue right now.”
He freezes for a moment, then blinks and retreats, backing off me. “Do they? My father’s used to change, too.” His voice sounds strange. But then he turns back to me and scoops me off the bed.
He’s impossibly strong. He carries me like a child to the bathroom where he starts the shower. “Let me clean you up.” His eyes are back to green.
I stand and watch him undress, dragging my lower lip through my teeth when I catch sight of his ribbed abdominals, the hard pecs. He’s covered in scars-knife wounds, bullet holes, burn marks-each one only adds to the stark beauty of his warrior body. He disposes of the condom in the trash and kicks off his boxer briefs.
And-oh lord-his cock still stands at attention for me. How is that even possible?