Duke didn't care. He took me the way he wanted me, hard and fast and rough, and he didn't hesitate, didn't worry about how I'd feel about it. He knew he'd already made me come, and knew he could get me to orgasm again so fast it was kind of stupid...

  He took what he wanted, how he wanted it.

  In this case, it was me.

  And, oh god, it was incredible.

  It hurt, but not in a way that made me want to stop. If anything, it made me want more. The way his massive cock split me open and slammed hard all the way into me, pounding my pussy relentlessly...it made something inside me crack open, took the nascent desire I'd always felt, the constant need for sex that I could never quite satisfy, and set fire to it.

  And then, just as I was starting to feel the bubble of orgasm, despite the lack of clitoral stimulation, he stopped, buried deep.

  "Duke--"

  His name was all I managed to get out, and then one of his hands smoothed in a caressing circle over my ass cheek...

  Crack!

  His palm smacked against my ass with sudden force, spanking me so hard my entire body rocked to the side, my ass quivering and on fire.

  "What the fuck!" I gasped, shocked, outraged, and secretly turned on.

  He didn't answer, only gripped my hip again and released with the other hand, caressed the opposite cheek.

  "Duke, wait!" I cried out, but he ignored me.

  Crack!

  My other ass cheek was now throbbing. He plunged his cock into me once, hard, and I whimpered with the pleasure of his huge, perfect cock sliding into me, and then he spanked my right butt cheek again, fucked into me, spanked the left, fucked...and set a rhythm, a single hard thrust, a spank, a thrust, a spank, until my ass was throbbing and on fire and I was gasping from the breathless ache of it, near tears from the fierce, piercing pain of it, but I couldn't quite bring myself to ask him to stop because it was naughty, it was dirty. What he was doing to me was something I'd never dared do, never thought I'd like, something I'd always been too scared to try. Fuck, I'd never trusted anyone enough to let them do this to me. But I just knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that the second Duke sensed I really needed him to stop, he'd stop. No questions asked, no hesitation, no judgement. I didn't even need to test him on it, I just knew.

  I lost track of everything except the burning aching throbbing sting of my ass and the pounding thrust of Duke's cock, the crack of his hand across my ass cheeks--

  He stopped abruptly.

  "Duke, did you--"

  He cut me off, once again without words. He lifted me effortlessly, tossed me forward onto the bed, literally tossing me as easily as if I weighed nothing. I hit the mattress, bounced, and rolled to my back, caught sight of him prowling onto the bed after me, huge and powerful and feral, thick cock jutting, slick and wet from my pussy.

  "Duke...god, you still haven't come yet?"

  He grinned, self-assured, pleased, the grin of a predator with soft, easy prey in sight. "Just gettin' started, Fancy."

  "Jesus."

  "How's that ass?"

  "Stings."

  "Good." He lifted up onto his knees. "All fours, babe. Lemme see how red your ass is."

  I scrambled away from him--now that I was out of the heat of the moment, my ass was stinging like hell and I wasn't sure I wanted to be spanked any more.

  He lifted an eyebrow at me. "You gotta trust me to know what you can take, honey. Now...you gonna do what I'm telling you, or do I have to manhandle you again?"

  "Don't spank me anymore," I said.

  "I'll do what I want, and you'll like it. If I didn't know you'd like it, I wouldn't do it." He grabbed my ankle and hauled me toward him.

  "Duke, I--"

  "Get on your hands and knees, Temple." He released my ankle, his expression now unreadable. "Show me your ass."

  Normally, I adamantly refused to do anything if it sounded like an order. I did not take instructions, I gave them. No one told me what to do. Spoiled brat? That's me. The producers learned early on the best way to get me to work with what they wanted was to ask nicely, to butter me up. Not even my parents could order me around. My boy-toys? Yeah, that's a joke. I told them what to do, got what I wanted from them, and kicked them out. The slightest hint of...well, the exact dominating, macho, me-Tarzan-you-Jane attitude Duke was flashing me right then...and the guy was history.

  No one gave me orders, ever.

  Yet here I was, rolling to my hands and knees, obeying Duke. Presenting my ass to him, baring myself for him, vulnerable, eager to please him.

  I watched over my shoulder as he slid his palm against my ass cheek--I flinched in anticipation, and he shot me a shit-eating grin.

  "Relax and trust me, Fancy."

  I forced myself to remain still as he palmed my ass again. His touch was gentle, in juxtaposition to the merciless spanking he'd administered just moments ago.

  "Jesus, Temple. You're...fucking perfect. Have I said that yet?" He used both hands, now, caressing my ass as he had at the very beginning. "Your ass is all red now...even more perfect."

  "You've really got a thing for my ass, don't you?"

  His lip curled in a snarl. "You have no clue."

  Duke shuffled on his knees closer to me. Palmed my ass yet again, caressing from side to the other with one hand, and then sliding his palm up my spine. He gathered my loose, wet hair in his fist. At first, he just gathered it up in a knot, and then released it to slide hand down my spine. He fitted the head of his cock to my slit, using both hands to spread my ass apart, and then slid into me in a smooth, slow glide.

  I cried out from the gentle bliss of it. "God, Duke. Your cock feels so good.

  "Being inside you...Temple, honey--" he stopped, as if at a loss, gathering my hair into a ponytail, and then wrapped it around his fist. "Fucking you is...god, I'm never tongue-tied. I just don't have words for how good your pussy feels squeezing around my cock."

  I felt him tug on my hair, and I shifted backward toward him, taking him deeper, and then I felt him pull out almost all the way, leaving just the tip in, and then with a grunt he fucked into me and yanked my hair to pull me backward. His grip shifted, twisting so his fist was buried against my scalp, tilting my head back. He pushed me down so my face and tits were pressed against the bed, my ass in the air, my pussy impaled on his cock.

  He fucked me breathless.

  Each jerk of my hair, each slap of his hips against my ass, each drive of his dick into me, and I lost more of my ability to breathe, to function, to think, to do anything except cry out in ecstasy. He fucked me, and he fucked me, and he fucked me, pulling my hair to yank me back into each thrust.

  I felt something hot and crazy welling up inside me, something powerful, something enormous. And the harder he fucked me, the hotter and harder it got, spreading through me until I was a wild thing, desperate to reach whatever it was Duke was building inside me with this rough, hair-pulling, spank-my-ass brand of sex.

  "Duke..." I breathed. I wasn't sure what I was asking.

  He just grunted at me, a feral, brutish snarl of inquisition.

  "Please."

  "Please what, Princess?"

  "I need--" I didn't know what I needed.

  "What do you need, honey? Tell me."

  "I don't know," I admitted, beginning to writhe back into him, to give in to the need for madness, my fingers clawing into the blanket, slamming back into his thrusts, crying out between desperate gasps. "More of...you...god, I don't know!"

  I felt his breath on my ear. "You're perfect, Temple Kennedy," he whispered. "And I know exactly what you need."

  "You do?"

  "Yeah, babe." He slowed his thrusting, then, skimming both hands down my spine to rest on my ass; I was afraid he was going to spank me again, but all he did was caress me possessively, affectionately. "Touch your pussy for me, gorgeous. I wanna feel you come around my cock."

  "I--I want you to come," I breathed.

  "Oh, I will," he said. "I'll come when you do."

  "At the same time?"

  "That's the plan," he said. "You ever have a mutual orgasm with anyone?"

  "No," I whispered. "Have you?"

  "Only once," he admitted, "and finding that again has been a fantasy of mine for a long-ass time."

  "And you think we can do that?"

  "Fancy, I have absolutely zero doubt."

  "Why?"

  "Because..." he started, trailing off. He leaned over my back, pressing his lips to my ear again. "Because our chemistry is off the fucking charts, Temple. For reasons I can't explain and in ways I don't even understand myself...I just...I know you. I know your body. I know what you want when even you don't."

  I couldn't deny what he was saying. "We're...there's a connection here, isn't there? That's what you're saying."

  Duke's hesitation, then, spoke volumes. He pulled his hips back, paused at the apex of his withdrawal, and then slid back into me, but slowly. Gently. Reverently, almost. Groaning deep in his chest.

  "Yes, Temple," he murmured as he filled me. He pulled back again, slowly this time, and when he pushed back in, he did it leaning over me, whispering into my ear, intimate, his voice a rough, ragged and raw. "There's a connection between us. A fucking intense one."

  "It scares me," I murmured.

  "Me too." Duke's voice was almost inaudible as he whispered this admission. "I've been through a dozen different kinds of hell, so there ain't much that scares me anymore. But babe, this shit between us scares me."

  "God, Duke--what's it mean?"

  "It means start touching your pussy."

  I pressed my cheek into the mattress, letting my head, shoulders, and chest take my weight, and slipped my fingers between my thighs. Found my clit and gave it a hesitant touch; I've never touched myself during sex before, only after. That single touch made me flinch hard as searing pleasure shot through me.

  "Oh...fuck," I grunted.

  "You never touch your pussy during sex?" I shook my head, and Duke laughed. "Babe, you've seriously been doing sex all wrong."

  "I think I'm starting to agree with you."

  "I ain't a facts and trivia sort of dude," Duke said, "but I happen to know that at least eighty percent of women find it difficult if not impossible to reach orgasm without direct clitoral stimulation."

  I couldn't help a laugh at hearing Duke--big, muscular, uber-macho, all testosterone and guns and protein shakes Duke Silver--spouting a factoid about female orgasm like some kind of sex nerd.

  "It's true," he insisted.

  "I'm not laughing because I think you're wrong, I just--it's funny, hearing you say that."

  "Why?"

  "Because like you said, you're not a random facts kind of guy." I laughed again, but it was breathless, because Duke was thrusting rythmically, slowly and gently, and my fingers were finding the rhythm I needed to reach climax.

  "Maybe not, but I am a sex kind of guy, and that's a handy fact to know," he murmured. "Maybe I'm weird about this, but I get off harder when my partner is losing her damn mind. The harder I can make you come, the harder I'll come. So if you're not getting all the pleasure possible when we're fucking, then I'm doing it wrong. Porn's got it all wrong, is what I've learned. That shit is stupid. Women ain't gonna get off just by pounding into 'em like a damn jackhammer."

  I realized something else that was weird about having sex with Duke: all the talking. I'm the first to admit that most of the time, I'm a stereotypical motor-mouth blonde, but get me naked and put a dick in me, and I clam up. I just don't know what to say, and don't see the point of all the talking; just fuck me and go away, already.

  But, as Duke said, I've been doing sex all wrong, I was realizing.

  The problem is, I'm relatively certain at this point that I'll never find anyone equal to Duke in terms of doing it right.

  Because HOLY SHIT, this was intense.

  I don't have the word to capture what Duke was making me feel, what he was doing to me.

  He was fucking me, his cock sliding slowly into my pussy and withdrawing, each wet inch driving raw ecstasy through me filling me, stretching me apart, pushing the ecstasy into something so virulently, violently potent there wasn't really a word for it. Add in the touch of my own fingers on my clit, circling with the precision and rhythm you can only give yourself, and the orgasm slammed through me hard and fast, an abrupt, unstoppable tsunami of spastic bliss.

  "Oh fuck, Duke--Jesus, Jesus, I'm coming so hard--" I lost my voice, then, had it stolen by the violence of the climax.

  I dissolved into screaming, thrashing madness, slamming back into Duke, and then as I called out my impending orgasm, he started fucking me hard and fast, my fingers a blur on my clit the whole time.

  "Duke, I--fuck, ohmyfuckingod--I want you to come with me."

  In another of his lightning fast snake-strike moves, he pulled out of me and flipped me to my back. I was left gaping, gasping, curled into a quivering, thigh-trembling mess, mouth open as I fought for breath, pussy clenching at the sudden loss of Duke inside me

  "Duke, please, god...please--" I whimpered, reaching for him, not caring how pathetic and desperate and breathy and porn-star whimpery I sounded--that was exactly how I felt.

  Duke planted a hand into the mattress beside me, his massive bulk levered over me. His chest blocked out everything, his abs were rippling ridges of iron-hard muscle, his cock was a long, thick, jutting monster, his arms bulging, his hips trim and narrow. His eyes blazed, intense and virile and fiery.

  And that was when I realized something that left me shaking: everything up to that point, up until he flipped me to my back, had been the build up.

  What was about to happen now...this was the main event.

  He was breathing hard, but not just from exertion. His brows were furrowed, his jaw clenched, his expression fierce and primal and possessive and promising dark and dirty and beautiful things I couldn't begin to fathom.

  He was on top of me, over me, staring down at me, just breathing, just staring into my eyes for a moment out of time, and I felt the connection we'd both acknowledged snapping and sparking between us, felt it as real and physical as an electric shock; that moment, no part of our bodies touching, just our eyes meeting...

  It felt like gripping a live power cable, it felt like a million joules coursing through me.

  "Duke," I whispered.

  And then he pounced.

  He stroked my slit, guiding himself into me, and then bracing himself with both hands. I cried out in relief as he filled me, and this time I had his eyes, had his open, unguarded expression to go with the physical sensation, and I knew then that I'd never feel anything like this singular moment ever again, his eyes spearing into me, his cock sliding deep, gliding into me, the real and undeniable emotional or psychological or whatever it was connection crackling between us.

  But I was wrong.

  It got even more intense:

  He kissed me.

  Good god, he kissed me like I've never been kissed before.

  And now he was inside me, and he was kissing me. He was moving, thrusting, filling me and withdrawing and pushing in and dragging out and his tongue was tangling with mine and he was moaning into my mouth as he moved, as we moved together.

  Because this was...

  Something totally other than sex.

  More.

  So much more.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist, discovering that I had hands, and that I wanted to touch him. My hands scoured his skin, clawed down his shoulders and raked his sides. I ripped his topknot out and ran my fingers through his soft silk hair and cupped the back of his head and grabbed his ass and dug my fingers into the hard muscle around his spine, and all the while I was discovering as well that my hips had a mind of their own.

  I was utterly wild.

  We couldn't sustain the kiss any longer, then, and I was the first to break away, gasping on a sob. I promptly bit his shoulder and cried out, teeth latched onto the thick trapezius muscles.

  "Temple--" he snarled, sounding as stunned and breathless as I was.

  "Don't--don't ever stop, Duke," I said, and then kissed him where my teeth had left red marks on his pale skin. "God, please don't stop."

  I forced my gaze up to his, and found what I was looking for, what I'd always been looking for, without ever realizing it: A man, powerful, confident--arrogant, even--completely focused on me without being intimidated by me...who could fuck me senseless and push me out of my boundaries, and yet, in that moment, he was completely vulnerable.

  I saw his fear at how intense this was, and I knew it was everything to him that it was to me. I saw his need...for me. I saw his desire for me, which was a separate thing from the need.

  I reached up, clutched the back of his neck, and pulled his face down to mine. Touched my lips to the shell of his ear. Cupped his pumping, pulsing ass in my other hand, heels hooking around the backs of his thighs just beneath his buttocks.

  I whispered in his ear: "Let go, Duke."

  I felt another orgasm boiling up deep inside me. I let go of his butt and wedged that hand between our bodies, touched my clit, felt the white-hot lightning slice through me at my touch, spasms seizing my belly and my legs and my core. My thighs trembled and my hand clamped down on Duke's neck, clutching as hard as I could.

  "Duke--let go, baby." I bit his lower lip, writhing my hips against his, taking his cock as deep as it would with each slow thrust. "Let go with me. I'm gonna come again. Come with me."

  "Temple--" he growled, and one of his hands brushed across my breasts and then found my free hand and our fingers tangled together stretched out over our heads. "Fuck, fuck. Temple--Jesus."

  I squeezed his hand, clamping down as we ground our bodies together, the room echoing with the sound of our grunts and sighs and the wet sucking slapping.

  I felt him begin to lose control, then. His fucking thrusts lost their machine-like rhythm and his breathing went ragged and he was grunting and groaning. Each thrust was magic, filling me, stretching me, and my fingers were crazy on my clit and he was slamming hard and fast now.

  "Yes, Duke, Duke, god, keep fucking me. Come with me, Duke."