Like a heartbeat.
Like air.
I tugged at his shirt, and he lifted his arms so I could pull it off.His chest, every tattoo, every ridge, every inch of him, made my stomach flip.
“God,” I breathed.
His smile turned wicked.“You look like you wanna devour me.”
“Maybe I do.”
His hands gripped my thighs.“Then do it.”
I kissed him again, deeper, rawer.His hands roamed everywhere.Over my back, my hips, and up my spine.When his fingers slid under the band of my panties, I melted into him.
He groaned into my mouth.“Tell me you need me.”
I pressed my forehead to his.“I need you.”
That broke whatever restraint he had left.
His hands hooked under my thighs and flipped me gently onto my back.He kissed down my neck, slow and teasing while his breath warmed against my skin.
“Marshal,” I whispered, my voice shaking with want.
He growled softly and kissed lower.Across my collarbone, and over the curve of my breast until I arched up into him.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“Because of you.”
His mouth curved against my skin.“Good.”
He kissed down my stomach, each brush of his lips sending sparks through my body.When he reached the waistband of my panties, he paused just long enough to meet my eyes.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”His fingers traced the edge of the fabric and made my breath stutter.“Once I start, I’m not stopping.”
I nodded.“Please don’t.”
He slid them off slowly, eyes locked on mine the whole time, like he wanted me to feel completely seen and safe.
Then he lowered himself between my thighs.
My breath caught.“Marshal—”
He kissed the inside of my knee first.Then the sensitive skin of my thigh.Then higher.And higher.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, voice low enough that it vibrated against my skin.
“I won’t,” I whispered.
And then his mouth was on me.
Soft at first, gentle, teasing.My fingers curled into the sheets as my hips lifted involuntarily.He groaned like he loved the way I reacted and like he needed it.
