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He stared down at her dazed face and wondered if this was what she had felt when she had seen her brand on him. This primal, overwhelming need to possess. For a man who had gone through life swearing to never possess anything that could be taken from him, it was a frightening feeling.
“I marked you back. ” His voice was fierce, triumphant.
“You marked me long ago and just didn’t know it. ”
Alex felt his abdomen clench at the declaration. If possible, he swore his dick thickened.
“You’re dangerous, baby. ” He smiled down at her, hoping to take off the edge of near-obsessive hunger rising inside him as he levered up and forced himself to unbutton his shirt and shrug it from his shoulders rather than rip it off.
What the hell was wrong with him? He could be buried inside her now, pumping into that tight, hot little pussy and he was holding back instead.
It was that damned tenderness he couldn’t seem to push aside. He wanted her aware of him, so ready for him that when he took her, the pain would be minimal. The thought of hurting her sent shards of tension radiating through his mind.
“I love your body. ” Her sigh was followed by the tentative touch of her fingers against his flexing abs. “So strong and hard. I wish I could wrap you around me. ”
Christ. Her eyes. Those light green eyes stared up at him, wistful and filled with something that went deeper than hunger. It made him want to wrap around her, to become her personal shield, her blanket, her fucking life.
He was losing his mind to her.
He watched her, forcing himself to stay still as she pulled at his belt.
For a moment, regret flickered in her gaze as she pulled the belt free, and he knew what was going through her mind. She thought she was going to leave. Thought she was going to leave him. Oh, poor little Janey. She had another thing coming.
“Take your shirt off first. ” He stilled her hands when she would have released his jeans. “I want to watch you take it off. ”
She paused, blinked up at him, and her eyes darkened with a hint of self-consciousness. But she did it.
She reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly lifted it. Her softly rounded belly was revealed, her breasts, then she was tossing it from her head.
And Alex was still staring at her breasts. They were perfect breasts. Not large, just right. Swollen little mounds topped with pretty cotton-candy pink nipples that were stiff, hard.
“I want to suck your nipples until you come from it,” he growled, and a flush worked over her breasts and up her neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away long enough to see her flushed face. Yet.
He loved her nipples. His mouth watered to taste them, to draw them in, play with the hard little tips with his tongue.
“Your nipples make me sweat,” he told her roughly. “I want to suck them so bad it burns me alive. ”
As he watched, those hard tips seemed to flush further. Rising over her, he licked at first one, then the other as he toed his boots off and kicked them over the side of the bed.
He tore at the snap and zipper of his jeans, working them off as he sucked at each hard little point. She was going wild beneath him. Her arms hugged his head, trying to push all of her breast into his mouth.
Incredible. She was making him crazy with the taste, with each little cry that fell past her lips.
When he was naked, he tugged at her cotton pants, pulling her panties with them. He wanted her naked, wanted her bare. He wanted to cover her, wrap around her. God help him, he wanted to fulfill that need he heard in her voice for security, for safety. For pleasure.
Janey watched Alex’s face. Pleasure came in surprising ways, she had found. Not just the touch of his
hands, or his mouth, but the look in his eyes, the tight, hungry grimace that pulled at his lips.
When she stroked his shoulders, his lashes would lift. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked her nipples, but each caress she gave him, each new touch, brought him pleasure as well. Brought her pleasure.
It was so good. The sensations traveling from the hard tips of her breasts to her womb were sizzling. His mouth covered her nipple, his tongue rasped it until she was writhing beneath him, crying out his name in a need so vicious she didn’t think she could bear it.
She felt as though she were burning up. That the heat in the apartment was too high. That some internal thermostat had stopped working.
“Fuck, your nipples are good, baby,” he drawled, his voice rough, sexy, as his dark gray eyes stared up at her. “Hard and sweet. ”
As he spoke, one hand smoothed down her side to her hip.
