“Wow. You’re big everywhere, huh?” There’s nothing but pure feminine appreciation in my voice.

He leans over me and whispers in my ear. “And you’re going to take every inch.”

I shiver at the erotic promise in those words.

When he climbs back on the bed, he settles himself between my legs and this time, there’s nothing to shield me from the heat and hardness. It feels amazing, being surrounded by him.

Then he does something with his hips that nudges his cock right where I need him. My toes curl and my fingers grab helplessly at the sheets. His eyes don’t leave mine as he flexes his hips again, this time thrusting deep.

“Fuck, Emma. You feel so good. So tight and wet.”

His big body presses me into the mattress so I can barely move. All I can do is grip his shoulders, my nails digging into the muscles as I’m forced to accept what he gives me. His eyes are on mine the whole time, watching my every reaction, my every whimper, my every shudder as he takes me with long, forceful strokes.

I can’t speak. I can barely even keep my eyes open when he’s looking at me like this. It’s too much. Too much sensation and too much intimacy. My muscles grip him tightly as he thrusts again, then once more. He’s so deep, so incredibly deep that I know I’ll be feeling him all day tomorrow and maybe the day after that. He’s doing more than just making love to me, he’s branding me.

The savage intensity in his eyes as he drills into me sends me over the edge.

I scream when I come. I can’t hold back the sound as my orgasm tears through me, splitting me apart. Pleasure explodes, radiating out from where he’s buried deep within me and all the way down to my toes.

As I clench around him helplessly, shaking with the last tremors of my orgasm, he hooks his hands beneath my knees and pushes them back toward my shoulders. The position spreads my legs and forces my pussy to open up to him, drawing him even deeper.

His mouth settles near my ear and the things he’s saying as he thrusts into me, oh god, the things he’s whispering to me. He tells me how warm and soft my pussy is, how tight it is, how wet it is. No one has ever talked to me like this and I’m melting, just disintegrating as he mindfucks me in a way that I’ve never experienced.

His deep growl of satisfaction as he comes pushes me even further away from sanity. It sounds animalistic, primitive.

Then again there’s nothing civilized about Tank Marshall. And there never will be.

CHAPTER NINE

The following evening, I stand in the kitchen at Claire’s house stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce. Tank stands next to me awkwardly chopping onions. So far this has been an incredibly strange Saturday afternoon. I wish I could say I was all modern and sleeping with a guy is no big deal but I’m completely unsure how to act around him now.

He left before Ivy and Jon came home so at least I didn’t have to deal with any questions from my extremely nosy sister. Or any disgusting comments from Jon. I’d almost forgotten about our dinner plans until he called me up this afternoon. Once he found out that I hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet, he insisted on picking me up. I’ve never been to the grocery store with a guy before. It was a completely new experience.

I had a list of exactly what I needed but Tank wanted to go up and down every aisle. I now know things about him that I would have never suspected. He has a sweet tooth but not for chocolate. Instead he likes raspberry flavored everything. Brand names were scrutinized and put back in favor of comparable store brands. I wouldn’t have guessed that he would be a thrifty shopper. He also insisted on buying everything.

The doorbell rings and Tank leaves to go answer it. Another deep voice. It must be his brother. I grab the nearest dishtowel and hastily wipe my hands. Tank is so forceful. Such an enigma. I wonder what his brother is like.

I enter the living room. The guy on the couch looks like Tank so I know it must be his brother. “Hi, Finn. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He accepts my hand and then doesn’t let go so I’m forced to sit on the couch next to him. “My brother hasn’t told me anything about you and I can guess why. Young. Beautiful. He’s worried I’ll steal you away.”

“Yes, I am. So back off.” Tank comes over and sits between us, forcing his brother to shift over on the couch.

“Boys, no fighting. You’ll scare the poor girl off. I swear I raised them better than this Emma.”

“Oh they’re just joking around.”

“I may be joking around but Tank is not,” Finn whispers. I glance at him and he smiles back. He’s an attractive guy, much closer to the movie-star standard than Tank. But for some reason, I don’t feel that wild, uncontrollable heat that I feel around his brother.

“Finn, help her set the table!” Claire scolds. He sighs and gives her a long suffering look but there’s affection behind it.

“Sure thing.” He walks to the cabinet against the wall.

As he walks, I notice that he has a slight limp. Then I remember that Tank put the cat’s carrier near the cabinet. What if he falls over it or something?

“Watch out so you don’t trip over—”

Finn’s foot accidentally smacks into the carrier on the floor. Then he leans down to peer inside. “You have a cat? You don’t have to keep her penned up.” Before I can warn him, he unzips the case. “Come here, little kitty.”

“You might not want to do that. Poochie’s a little anti-social.”