Vivian Arend - High Risk

That was when he finally switched. Withdrew, pressed his cock to her anus and pushed forward. Becki bit her lip against the pressure. The pain opening her as she stretched radiated out and mixed with the still-frantic pleasure in her sex. It wasn’t enough. None of it was enough anymore, and she leaned back into him to try to hurry him up.

Marcus caught her by the hip and stopped them, the fat crown of his cock popping through her tight muscle. “My speed. My pace.”

“Oh God, please. More. Give me your cock. Fuck me now.” She was sure she kept talking, but she no longer knew what she said, because gloriously, he listened to her and drove in all the way. The sensation rippled through her entire body. Oh it hurt, but it hurt like the most indescribable pleasure. He pulled back and it wasn’t just his cock in her, it was him inside her entire body. Making her squirm, making her need.

He planted his hand in the middle of her shoulders, rose slightly, and thrust forward. Driving her into the mattress as his cock reamed her. Opening her ass, taking everything she was willing to give. It was as if he were taking complete possession, working his cock in and out of her body, her ass slowly giving up resistance. Nothing but pleasure now as he buried himself deep and held himself there.

Torso curled over her, bodies connected so intimately. She wanted to sing out her delight, but damn if she could say a thing.

He kissed between her shoulders before lifting off and pulling his hips back until his cock popped free. He stroked her opening, and her anal muscles fluttered against his fingertip. Marcus caressed her hip for a second before placing his cock in position again. He pushed in slowly, her hole stretching wide with the faintest resistance around his hard length.

He did it again. And again, the sensation making her tremble as he waited just long enough for her to fully feel him enter her body each time. So intimate. Such complete abandon.

Trust.

When he leaned over to kiss her once more, she was ready for the next step. Ready for him to grab hold of her and turn up the speed. He thrust in and dragged out hard now, torsos locked together, her ass burning as he plunged in again and again.

When he reached between her legs and touched her clit, she buried her face in the mattress and screamed. Ass clutching him as her orgasm broke her down and tore her into ribbons of pleasure. Inside her sex the muscles pulsed, her breasts tingled—her entire body being taken along for the ride.

“Becki.” He buried himself as deep as possible a second before his cock jerked, a flood of warmth filling her as his seed rushed out.

They collapsed together, his cock still a part of her, their legs tangled, both of them sweaty and panting for breath.

She’d never felt so alive in her life.

Her cheek rested on something cold and solid, flakes of dirt and grit under her palms where they were pressed to the ground. Becki pushed to a sitting position with the caution born of a thousand climbs—testing each hold before trusting her life on it.

She’d expected the spruce forest, but it had vanished, leaving nothing but the grey of cloud and granite. The rock she sat on was bombproof. Flat, solid. The perfect place to take a nap.

Right—as if.

Taking to her feet used more energy than she wanted, every muscle at the point of quivering in agony. Legs, head, torso—all a mass of aches and pains. Cold as well, as if she’d been motionless for a long time. She staggered under the pack’s weight, pulled off her helmet, and rubbed her aching temples. Whatever had happened, she was still standing. Still breathing. It wasn’t the end of the world. She stretched one arm back and clipped her helmet in place, the move more instinctual than planned.

Even her fingertips hurt. She shook out her hands gingerly, trying to get them to warm up, and she brushed her harness. Another habitual move kicked into gear and she reached forward, grabbing the figure-eight knot she found anchored tight. She slid her fingers upward to gather her rope and coil it neatly. When her hand slipped off far too soon, a rush of adrenaline shot through her. Sickening bile rose as her mind registered what was wrong.

The rope ended barely a hand’s grasp from her harness.

She stared down at the cut rope, the ends of the twist already coming unraveled. The moisture on her face—she wasn’t sure if it was the rain that had chosen that moment to become full out, or if it was tears.

What had she done?

Becki woke first, sadness sinking into her brain like a heavy blanket as her dream slipped from the distant place of the night to the here and now. Understanding brought so much sorrow. She rolled slowly, taking herself from under Marcus’s left arm, which lay draped over her stomach.

Recovering the memory was strangely anticlimactic.

Maybe she’d been ready for it. Maybe that was why her heart wasn’t pounding like crazy. While the truth hurt, and finally knowing changed everything, at least she could go on from here. Do what needed to be done.

That was at least something to be grateful for.

She stopped beside the bed, her vision caught by Marcus. The blankets in disarray around him, his naked chest exposed, his head tilted to the side with his right hand near his temple. His left arm, the one that had held her to him, lay across his chest, the shortened section of his forearm ending abruptly. Maybe it should have shocked her how seldom she noticed his missing hand.

He wasn’t lacking, though. In any way. Strong and determined. Giving and powerful. Since the moment she’d met him so many years ago up to now, the only word she had for him was extraordinary .

Now she was going to have to leave him, and the realization hurt far more than she’d expected. The pain she anticipated taking control after her memory returned finally arrived. Only it was because having to say good-bye to Banff would mean leaving Marcus again.

The first time, after their fling, she’d missed him, but with the ease of youth she’d moved on.

She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do that this time.

And last night? God. Last night had been so exactly what she’d needed. Having this man take control of her and drive her to new heights of passion . . .

Marcus scowled, his face tightening in a grimace. He twitched in his sleep. Head jerking as something rolled through his body. Becki stepped closer, concern washing away her own sorrows.

“Marcus?” she whispered. “You’re dreaming. It’s okay. Wake up.”

He moved uneasily, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Moans broke free from his lips, words forming. “No, no . . . Don’t give up.”

Oh no. Whatever nightmares he fought, this could get ugly fast.

“Hang on. I’m coming. I’ll be there.”

“Marcus. Wake up,” she insisted louder. Becki placed one knee on the bed and reached for his leg. He shot upright, arms flailing, and she jerked back to avoid being hit. “You’re good, you’re safe. It’s me, Becki, and we’re in David’s cabin. There’s nothing wrong.”

His body continued to shake for a moment before his eyes slowly focused, and he collapsed back. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She crawled next to him, fingers light on his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for. You okay? Can I get you anything?”

He stared at the ceiling and shook his head. “I’m glad I didn’t come out of that swinging and hurt you.”

Becki laid her head on his chest, stroking him gently. Trying to ease his panic. His heart pounded like crazy, and she deliberately breathed slower. Willing him to find peace. She didn’t want to have him hurting.