With Just Cause by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online Page B

with
intensity. Beating with intent. Deandra launched upward and he
caught her, and then held her tightly against him. She wrapped her
legs about his hips and ground her pelvis against his, her motions
matching the rhythm within her. The thrum. The building momentum.
Her entire body in the thrall of something so elemental and wild it
took any inhibitions and sent them packing.
    More. She needed more. And she needed it
now
!
    They rose somehow. Flew. Settled onto a
structure that rocked at the force of their landing. All, without
any sense of motion and little passing of time. Deandra didn’t
care. Her fingernails raked his back, her body lunged up against
his, trying for a closeness that couldn’t exist. Her shirt
disappeared. She barely felt the material tear. Her leggings slid
down, shoved there by a combination of one of her hands and one of
his. The spandex material snagged on an ankle before she kicked
them free. The buttons of his fly went next, sliding from their
holes with the eagerness of her fingers, and then she had him. Hot
and huge and heavy. In her hand.
    His pants got shoved to his knees. Her
panties were the next bit of collateral damage, yanked until the
elastic gave up the effort and ripped. Hard hands grabbed for and
held her hips. Centered for him. Splayed. Opened. His rod touched,
the contact ratcheting the drumbeats in her ears into hard
pulsations of sound. And they were faster as well. Louder. And then
he lunged deep into her core, filling her. Completing her. Matching
to her with a groan that echoed through the caverns of their joined
mouths.
    All prior experience shattered. Disappeared.
Got overwritten with pure beauty. Deandra’s torso bowed as his
curved, grasping and embracing for each thrust, somehow matching
the beat that filled her mind, her ears, her heart. Grimm moved his
kiss, sliding his lips to her chin. Along her jaw. He moved
lower... to her neck. Using his tongue to lap at the pulse beat
hammering against her skin. She felt a burn. A slicing sensation. A
cut. And then there was nothing but spasms of bliss, and they
radiated from where he lavished attention to her throat. Deandra
saw red. Smelled musk. Felt heat. Sensed moistness. And with each
bit of suction he applied, her body craved more.
    More.
    Grimm seemed to know, leaving off the laving
of her throat as he pushed up, positioning himself perfectly. Like
a sculpted god dropped to earth for her delectation and pleasure.
Deandra wrapped her legs about him and lunged upward, meeting each
thrust. Pulled away. Shoved against him again. Creating a symphony
of rhythm and tone. Over and over. Again and again. His rod
filling. Her body welcoming. Pressuring. Plowing. Pleasuring.
Pulling out. Thrusting back in. Trilling along her cavern sides
with heat and rigidity and tension. Each move was accompanied by
little grunts. Harder. Faster. More intense. The combination sent
her right over a waterfall of such wonder, she yanked her mouth
free of his in order to give the euphoric sensation sound. She had
wings and they’d been freed. Deandra arced her head backwards, her
mouth open and wide as the cry tore her throat, keening the
ecstatic throes of pleasure into the room.
    And before she could catch breath, it started
again. Each movement adding to the last. Her heart beat ramped into
a drum roll, her breathing became pants. And everywhere was Grimm.
Solid. Thick. Thrusting and grunting and questing. The canopy above
them spun. Swiveled. Rocked crazily.
    Grimm became a wild thing. Everything about
him taut and defined. Thrilling to watch. Incredible to experience.
Her legs tightened about him, staying connected through a series of
thrusts that made the mattress rock beneath them. The bed frame
creaked and shuddered. Rocked. And then she felt it again. Closer.
Nearer...
    Deandra sucked a breath and held it. Her
heart was like a caged thing, beating unmercifully and powerfully
against her ribs. Her eyes slammed shut. Tighter. Fireworks
rocketed