Thresh Read online

  "What, baby? Anything, tell me."

  "Your name. I need your real name."

  He ducked his head, pulling his gaze from mine. One breath, two, and I wondered if it was a deal breaker for him, started to wonder if he wasn't going to answer. "I hate my name," he rumbled. "And there's a reason I don't use it, why no one knows it."

  "I won't use it, I just--"

  He spoke over me. "But because it's you--" He sighed. "Thomas Harding."

  I blinked. I was expecting something weird, something embarrassing. "Thomas Harding?" I frowned up at him. "Your real name is Thomas Harding?"

  He nodded. "I was called Tommy up through high school, and I fucking hate, and have always hated being called Tommy, and Thomas sounds like some pencil-dick lawyer nerd who goes by three names and wears polos with the collar popped to play a round of golf." A growl of irritation. "Worst part is, technically, I'm a 'Junior', or 'the second', because my dad is Thomas Harding, too. And, really, he's why I refuse to go by that name. I want nothing to do with that man. I'm not him. I'm nothing like him, and I want nothing of his, especially not his fucking name. I don't even want to speak his name, not fucking ever."

  I caressed his cheek with my fingers. "You're not him, and you're not like him, Thresh." I made sure his eyes were on mine. "You're you. You're Thresh. You're sweet and gentle and smart and kind, and so fucking sexy I can't even handle it."

  He let out a breath and looked away from me. "My mom died, I told you that, and I'm guessing my dad has too, but I don't know for sure and I don't wanna know. Which makes you the only person who knows my real name, except for a couple of top brass in the military, and they all have top secret security clearance, and I threatened them within an inch of their lives before I left. So, yeah, Lola. You're the only one. Not even Harris knows my real name."

  I kissed his jaw, the corner of his mouth, then his lips, a soft sweet brush of my lips across his. "Thank you, Thresh." I tugged at him until he looked at me, really truly saw me. "I mean it. Thank you for trusting me with your name."

  He cupped the back of my head so I couldn't escape the kiss. "Only for you, babe." He took my mouth then, claimed me, marked me. "Only for you."

  Another kiss, this one hotter, pushing heat through me, reminding me that I needed this man, and the fact that he'd shared his name with me when it was clearly a difficult issue for him...that trust sank into my heart and opened me for him, took what was already building between us and deepened it, strengthened it. And then when he kissed me like that, as if he was starving and only I could sate him...god, that tore me apart, made me crazy, made me delirious for him. Made me ache for him. And then his hands began moving, seeking, searching, caressing, sliding down my back, across my hips, over my thighs, lifting and kneading my breasts, sending desperation searing through me.

  "We done talking now?" he growled, rubbing my nipple between his rough fingertips.

  I throbbed between my thighs, and couldn't help that my fingers dove down there, sliding between my legs and finding my clit and, judging by the way he ground his teeth and the way his cock twitched and the way he clawed open the box and tore free a condom, I knew he didn't mind.

  I felt a frenzy boil inside me as I fingered myself, felt the bubbling heat, the tension and pressure building as I circled my clit. Adding to the taut fiery madness coalescing inside me I tweaked and pinched my nipples, hard, until I was panting and gasping.

  As he rolled the condom down his length in three strokes of his bear-paw hand I breathed, "We're done--I need you."

  "Lola," he snarled, his voice a thunder-deep boom, his fingers replacing mine, circling my aching clit, driving me higher, closer to climax. "I need you too, baby. I--god, I need you so goddamn bad."

  Tears pricked in my eyes, the panic seizing me as he nudged his cock against my opening, panic clamped down around my lungs like constricting bands, even as a third orgasm blasted through me, stealing whatever breath I had left, searing and pulsing and bathing my pussy with slick sluicing need.

  Stronger than the panic, however, was the desperation. The fire. The pulsating heat. The ache in my belly and the throb between my thighs. The passion. It was there, boiling, overflowing, that passion, that wildness, that manic, insatiable need. Thresh had brought it all out, brought it all back, and it was blazing through me, a wildfire set off in a tinder-dry forest.

  I was on the edge of the platform, exactly at waist height to Thresh, in perfect position to take him inside me just like this. I clawed at his face with one hand, gripped the back of his neck with the other, my lips trembling against his, and then I reached with my one hand between our bodies, found his hard, waiting, rubber-sheathed cock and, oh fuck yes, that condom was studded for pleasure.

  My eyes were open, and so were his, and I kept hold of his nape, my mouth open, my lips quivering, looking up at him, into his searing, blue ice-chip eyes, eyes the exact color of the underside of a iceberg. I clutched his cock, wrapped my legs around his waist, hooked my feet together, held my breath and guided him to my opening.

  He hissed through his teeth, never blinking, not moving, and letting me do this my way, at my pace.

  I felt him, and the tears pricked my eyes again, but these weren't tears of panic or fear, these were tears of relief, of pleasure, of overwhelming ecstasy, a thousand incredible emotions and sensations all mingling into something without a name, something I could only call perfect, could only call finally finding my home.

  The broad plump head spread open my pussy, stretched me, and I had to wait, breathless, even though I was still shuddering from my last orgasm, because it had been so long and he was so big. I inched closer to him, and felt him slide into me a little further, and now I really did gulp and then sob, because he stretched me so tight, filled me so far beyond full I couldn't breathe, could only gasp through the burn, the ache, the beautiful searing fullness.

  "Lola--" he grunted. "Fuck, you're--"

  "Shut up, Thresh, just--please, baby, just shut and up let me feel this."

  Baby? I wasn't one for endearments, not ever.

  But...calling Thresh baby?

  That had just...tumbled from my lips, as easily and naturally as breathing.

  He had a hand on my waist, holding but not exerting pressure. I looked down at that hand, white against my dark skin, and in that moment I loved that, the size of his hand against my hip, the contrast of his skin against mine, the way his touch felt, just holding me. And then I shifted my eyes to where we were joined, and I felt my chest tighten and my stomach flip and my heart squeeze at how fucking beautiful that was too, how perfect, the first couple inches of his cock swallowed by my pussy, stretching my labia around his shaft as it rubbed against my clit. I watched then as I tilted forward a little more, shifting closer to him, and I loved the sound of my voice whimpering as he slid deeper into me, filling me further, more inches of his cock disappearing into my channel. His grip on my hip tightened then, and he hissed again.

  "So tight, Lola, fuck...you're so tight."

  I bit his lower lip and whimpered as I slowly closed the space between our bodies, touched my cheek to his so I could watch him enter me, inch by perfect inch. "So beautiful, Thresh. You...us, watching you fill me--it's so beautiful."

  "You are, sweetheart. It's all you."

  Impossibly, the more of him I took, the better it felt, and the more I needed, and I was split apart and aching and throbbing and there was still so much of him left, but I couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, because it was perfect. It was everything, it was the whole universe clicking into place with every inch of Thresh I took inside me.

  I'd taken as much as I could, in that moment, and all I could do then was fall forward against him and breathe, whimpering, afire from the sheer pleasure of having him inside me at last.

  "God, Thresh, I didn't know--I didn't know anything could feel this way," I sobbed.

  He breathed against my cheek. "Me either, baby." He growled, hips tensing and shifting. "I need to move, Lola. I can't take it anymore. I need to move."

  I clung to his neck with both hands, lifted myself up, legs wrapped around his waist. "Take me, Thresh." I leaned back to gaze into his eyes, felt myself exploding--heart, mind, body, and soul--from the intensity of all of this, of him, of us. "Give me yourself, honey. Let me feel you move."

  Every word, every endearment, every exhortation felt as natural as breathing, as familiar and as comfortable as lying down in one's own bed after a long trip away.

  He thrust once, slowly, gently on an exhalation of raw shuddering relief. "Oh...thank fuck."

  Another thrust and I was lifted up by him, his hand under my ass, kneading, gripping, and I was kept aloft by his cock impaling me and my arms were around him, and my legs clung to his waist. He was exploring my ass, caressing and touching and loving it with his hand.

  This was just him and me, and he sought my eyes as he pushed up into me, thrusting deep, forcing a cry from me. He hiked me higher so I was sitting on his forearm, and his cast-bound hand lifted to touch my face and trace my cheekbone, his thumb arcing across my lips, three fingers brushing my hair away from my face.

  And then he flexed his hips; I cried out as he pierced me, and it shook my whole being. This...him inside me, giving me another slow, questing thrust...it was so perfect it hurt, so much ecstasy I couldn't contain it, could only hold onto his neck with both hands and pull myself higher as he slid out of me, and then I released my weight to fall onto him as he pushed up, pivoting his hips and thrusting up on his toes. And, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck he was so deep now. I was completely filled by his engorged, slick, sliding cock when I felt an earthquake begin inside me, sending tremors through me, eradicating any strength I had. All I could do was cling to his neck, hold on with my legs, and rise and fall as he thrust into me.

  I felt dampness on my cheeks as I buried my face in the side of his neck, gasping, sobbing in sync with each slow powerful thrust.

  He didn't stop, but leaned back and pushed my face away with his hand, the cast scratchy against my cheek. "All right, baby?"

  I nodded, nuzzling against his throat. "So good, Thresh. It's just...you feel so fucking good inside me, I don't know how I've ever...how I've lived without this, without you..."

  The earthquake tremors were intensifying: quakes and quivers and shudders and shivers rocking me as each powerful thrust delved deeper inside me. Every tremor had me clinging tighter and writhing harder on him, lifting higher and sinking lower to get him deeper. I looked down to watch, leaning back so I could see him sliding in and out of me, and fuck, he was going so deep, and still I couldn't fit all of him inside me.

  He was still holding back.

  I felt a climax building up inside me, felt it rising, tautening, and I couldn't fathom how he was still able to hold me up with one arm, even though I was clinging to him for dear life. The power and the strength he possessed were baffling. He was still just thrusting slowly, long gliding strokes that went deeper and deeper with each thrust.

  I felt the orgasm seize me, and it made all the others that came before seem pale by comparison. He flexed his body away so he could thrust into me at an angle, his cock sliding along my clit as he pushed in and then, at the very last moment, he tilted forward and hit my G-spot.

  I lost it, just absolutely lost it, screaming against his shoulder as spikes of heat and pleasure so acute and all-consuming that my whole being narrowed down to focus on Thresh, on his cock inside me, feeling each inch of him glide over my clitoris and then hit that perfect spot. I could only scream his name.

  THRESH!--THRESH!--THRESH!

  As I was wracked by tremors, I went weak and limp and loose, and had to interlock my fingers behind his neck to keep from falling. "I can't--Thresh, I can't hold on. Lay me down, baby--I can't hang on any longer."

  He pivoted in place, sat down on the edge of the platform, and then laid back, taking me with him so I was able to collapse on his chest. My entire body fit perfectly on top of his, my breasts crushed to his chest, our hips bumping, thighs to thighs, my toes curling as the orgasm shuddered through me. I gasped against his throat, my chest heaving, sweat slicking my skin.

  "Lola..." he whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear, tilting my chin up to face him. "You come so beautifully, sweetheart. Watching you come, feeling you shake in my arms, feeling you clench around my cock, that was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced."

  I laughed, palmed his cheeks, and kissed him, a sweet intimate brush of lips over his. "And you haven't even come yet."

  He ran his hand down my spine and cupped my ass. "Take me there, Lola."

  I walked my hands along his torso until I was sitting upright on top of him. Impossible as it had seemed, I'd taken all of him. His hips were flush against mine and I had never seen anything as beautiful as the way we were now connected.

  I lifted up, my palms flat against his hard stomach, and leaned forward to let him slide out of me. I drew my feet under me, supporting my weight on his hipbones. He moaned as I swirled my hips around, drawing his cock in wide circles, leaving just his tip inside me.

  I met his eyes as I teased him with those circles, and then tilted my hips toward his feet, flexing his cock away from his body as far as it would go, and now he was hard against my clit. I sank down on him, slowly, and he groaned, his palm on my ass, trying to push me down, wanting to be inside me, wanting to be deeper.

  "Fuck, Lola."

  I smiled at him, a lust-hot, promising grin. "Not enough, Thresh?"

  "You're teasing me, woman," he said, trying to thrust into me, trying to push me down onto him. But I wouldn't let him. I was keeping him where I wanted him for now, just the plump head snugged between the aching, wet lips of my pussy.

  "Damn right I am, now hold still and let me do everything." I moved, another slow, shallow downward stroke. "I'll take you there, baby. I promise."

  He tucked his hand under his head. "For you...anything."

  I rewarded him with another stroke, just as slow, just as shallow, only taking an inch or two. He groaned at each one, his stomach tensing with the need to move, the urge to drive up into me. I needed that too, but I wanted to savor this, the absence of fear, the absence of panic.

  I wanted to drown myself in the bliss of him, the feeling of us, the decadent joyful rush of being penetrated, filled, flush with an orgasm and still desperate for more. I wanted to revel in the yawning pit in the hollow of my gut that could only be filled by Thresh, a hunger that could only be sated by him. There was nothing bad, nothing scary, nothing to fear, because it was just him and me, and I trusted him with every fiber of my being. I felt safe and protected and I couldn't get enough of this feeling.

  But I couldn't hold back anymore.

  I lifted up, pressing on his chest with my hands, thighs tightening as I drew upward. With my eyes on his, neither of us daring look away, we both knew what was next. He caressed my breasts, flicked my nipples as I drew the moment out, hovering with him barely inside me...

  And then I slammed down, my ass slapping his thighs, a scream ripping from my lips, a roar from his. I was left breathless, aching, split apart by him, filled with him. Only he existed. He wasn't just inside me; he was part of me, mingling with my soul. I lost myself in him, drowning in his gaze, groaning at the wet slick slide of him as I sank down on him over and over, breathless as he penetrated me.

  I felt it rising within me again, this one hotter and deeper and sharper than the last, and when I felt it start to crash up through me I couldn't control myself. I could only seek it, chasing the high.

  It was a million bolts of lightning all searing through me at once as I rose and fell on him faster now, crying out, screaming and shrieking. I sank down on him, faster and faster, harder and harder, until it was an endless beautiful perfect slide of him in and out of me, my thighs burning with the exertion as I flung my ass up and down with utter abandon, feeling the heavy globes bouncing at the upswing and slapping loudly down on him. He was groaning nonstop, growling, snarling, grunting--

  And then I came apart on top of him, falling forward, weight on my shins and my arms snaking under his neck to crash my mouth against his, paralyzed and trembling as the orgasm tremored through me, my lips quivering against his, my breath thin and shallow as I drew up slowly, and then I gasped a whimper as I crashed my pussy down around him, a full hard filling stroke, feeling him push so deep I wasn't sure where he ended and I began.

  I was at the apex of the climax when, faster than snakebite, he rolled us over, his good arm taking the weight. He was on top of me, above me, his hips forcing my thighs wide open, his wounded hand tucked against my cheek, fingers nuzzling me, motionless for a long moment, staring down at me, buried deep.

  He shuddered, let out a jagged breath, and then thrust into me, a slow but powerful thrust.

  I clutched his ass and pulled at him. "Harder, Thresh." I curled my legs around the backs of his thighs, cupped his hard ass with both hands. "Give it to me, Thresh. Don't hold back. Let go, baby."

  He shook his head, setting a slow pace. But he was shaking all over, and I could tell he was tensed, muscles all hard and taut, each thrust one of measured control. "I don't want to hurt you."

  "You won't, Thresh. I can take everything you have. I want it. I want everything you are. Stop holding back. Give up control." I flexed my hips up into his, meeting him thrust for thrust, but I pushed him faster, increasing our pace, pulling at his ass, clawing at the iron muscle, using my legs to yank him closer.

  He buried his face in my tits, and I moved one hand up to the back of his head, caressing the stubble and the thicker hair of his mohawk, running my palm over his scalp, but keeping his face against my tits. I moaned as he bit my nipples and breathed against my areolae and nuzzled between my breasts, his hips driving harder now.

  I arched my back, grinding my hips faster and faster, matching his pace and ramping it up, demanding more.

  He groaned, his weight heavy and perfect on me, his face rough and delicious between my breasts, his hips driving his cock into me, deeper and deeper, and it was so far beyond beautiful I was overcome, overwhelmed, not with climax but with emotional overload. This was almost too much pleasure, too much perfection, too much bliss for one mortal soul to contain. He was still going, but I could tell he was still holding back.

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