And when I was angry I attacked and when I was turned on, I attacked. Since meeting Kyle, I had two modes— calm and out-of-control. "You! You did this to me?" I sounded like a drama queen on a bad acting TV show. I lunged for him. My fingernails were suddenly like claws. I tore at his skin before he caught my wrists. He was sitting on the bed and the impact of me landing on him sent him backwards. Another discovery. I wasn't just horny, I was sex-crazed. When I landed on his chest, I started licking his skin. I humped against his stomach, and not finding his dick, I slid lower. For the second time, the tip eased inside me. Oh, he was big, so painfully, wonderfully big. I threw back my head and howled, wiggling to make it go deeper. But the pleasure killer let go of my wrists and grabbed my hips to haul me off him. I was near tears. Kyle planted me on my back against the bed. I watched his gaze lick my skin just as surely as I had his chest a second ago. His look stopped at my breasts, and I'm telling you he was fighting a war in his own mind not to suck my nipples.
