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He gripped her shoulders, ignoring her gasp as he pulled her against him, his head lowering.
She was caught. Helpless. God, he tasted too good. Too hot and seductive. Her hands gripped his hard waist, her lips opening for him as his tongue pressed past them, a groan vibrating from his chest as she met it with her own.
This wasn’t a kiss. It was a possession. It was a hunger, a temptation and an addiction. And she couldn’t get enough. She wanted to wrap around him, to lose herself in the pleasure and the heat that was Jared.
“God help us both,” he growled as his lips tore free of hers, only to string nipping little kisses across her jaw, along the line of her throat.
His arms were wrapped around her, holding her still as he bent to her, his lips burrowing beneath the opened neckline of her blouse to run his tongue over the smooth, swollen curves of her upper breasts.
Her head fell back, helpless against the pleasure, her muscles unable to hold her neck upright now as streaking delight seared through her.
“Jared. ” She arched to him, to his touch.
Her nipples ached, throbbed for the touch of his mouth. This was insanity. It was too much temptation, but it was unlike anything else she had known. This wasn’t an urge, nor was it an exercise in controlling the fury that sometimes built within her. This was a firestorm taking over her body and her mind. Heat and lightning and a demand that he only fed as his tongue licked over the lace edge of her bra.
“You taste as good as I knew you would,” he groaned roughly. “Like sweet honeysuckle and summer heat. God help us both, Kimber, I don’t think I can control the need to touch you, to taste you. ”
She had a week to remember this. A week to regret, to need, to ache for even the simplest, smallest touch.
“Jared. ” She fought to find her breath, to speak past the clawing, brutal arousal rising in her body.
She couldn’t speak further, couldn’t make anything more intelligent than a long, drawn out cry of blistering hunger escape her throat as his lips managed to push the cup of her bra aside enough to allow his tongue to rake the hardened point of her breast.
She went on her tiptoes then, her hands holding his head, pressing him closer, harder to her.
“More,” she gasped as he licked again. She wanted to feel his lips closing over her, drawing on her, sucking the tight point into his mouth.
“I was going to stay away,” he muttered gutturally. “I wasn’t going to taste. To touch…”
He lifted her against him, moving her to the bed, laying her back against the comforter as he moved quickly to her side. His lips covered hers again and the storm inside her body fed on the growing hunger of his kiss.
Kimberly was only distantly aware of his fingers at her blouse, tearing the buttons from their holes; his calloused hands were sensually rough, demanding as he pushed the material aside and quickly loosened the catch of her bra.
She couldn’t fight them both. She was starved for this. This something that his touch held that no others ever had. As though a stroke of his finger alone was a narcotic to her senses.
“Son of a bitch, I’ll go to hell for this for sure. ” There was no pausing between her lips and her pierced nipples.
Kimberly’s back bowed, arching tightly to him as a cry tore from her throat. His lips covered one aching tip as his fingers went to the other. Nimble and hot, his tongue rasped over it as his mouth drew on her, tugging at the little gold ring that pierced the center of the elongated tip.
His fingers plucked at the other. Pulling at the gold ring, sending shards of desperate, fiery heat flowing through her body as her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling at it, eager to feel his skin against her.
This was the stuff of her dreams. Jared overtaking her, forcing the pleasure from her body, giving her no time to think, to fear.
“I want to touch you,” she moaned, shuddering from the exquisite sensations ripping through her body. “Let me touch you, Jared. ”
He growled back at her. She didn’t know if it was a yes or a no.
“Now. ” She bucked against him, pulling harder at the shirt.
“Fuck no. ” His head rose from her reddened nipple as his hands gripped her wrists, jerking them above her head and holding them with one hand as he stared down at her, his gaze dark, sexual. “Don’t touch me, Kimber. Not now. Not like this. I’ll end up doing something we’ll both regret. ”
Kimberly fought for breath.
“You can have me,” she whispered. “Like Sax…”
She couldn’t deny him, not any longer. She was too hungry, too wild for his touch. She had thought she could hold herself aloof. Thought she could deny her need and his lusts, but she knew now it wasn’t going to happen. This wasn’t just a need. It was a craving, an addiction.
He stared down at her, his chest rising and falling as quickly as hers, his face flushed with his arousal, with his lusts. She could see the battle waging in his eyes, the desperate need for anything she would offer, the knowledge it would never be enough.
