She pushed up on her toes as her hands slid to the back of his head and pulled him down. The next second, her mouth was on his, her tongue thrusting inside to tangle with his.
He should have pulled back. Should have thought about what they were doing, why they were doing it, but her mouth was on his, and he’d ached for this very thing for weeks.
And she needed this. Neededhim.
Palming her ass, he lifted her off her feet and fit their bodies together in all the best places. All her softness pressed to his hardness, and the thin barrier of their underwear did nothing to block the heat generated between them. Her pussy cradled his length, warm and wet, and he couldn’t resist the need boiling inside him.
One of her hands left his head and burrowed between them, skilled fingers finding their way under his pants to stroke his pulsing dick.
He growled into her mouth, nipped at her bottom lip with a sharp snap. “More. Harder,” he demanded with a rock of his hips that had his cock sliding through her grip.
“Yes,” she hissed, her fingers squeezing tighter on the downstroke, twisting on the upstroke.
Turning, he pressed her to the shower wall and freed his hands to explore. He started with her legs, the smooth stretch of muscle from her ass to her knees, then back again. Around her hips, up her torso to the sides of her breasts, his thumbs grazed lightly over the silky flesh escaping the cups of her bra.
She arched against him, her mouth breaking free of his, and gasped, “Yes.”
Rylan couldn’t say which one of them made the next move, the one that rid them of the last of their clothing, but as each item fell away and dropped to the floor with a wet splat, he didn’t care. Didn’t think beyond the pleasure sliding through his veins, twisting the coil of heat low in his groin tighter.
And when her back bowed, her pelvis angling in a way that his cockhead slipped between her hot, slick folds, he was powerless to control the needs of his body.
In a hard, brutal shove, he drove his cock deep inside her pussy. Covering her mouth with his, he swallowed her jagged cry of pleasure, his guttural groan of relief.
His breath stalled for a moment, a split second of time where his mind cleared, and he could think beyond the carnal urges driving his actions long enough for him to believe in that small fraction of a moment that he’d finally found home. He was finally where he was supposed to be.
And then everything snapped back into place—sight, sound, sensation, and a savage need to claim—to mark this woman as his.
He’d never felt anything like it. Never needed to rut in a way that could hurt. Would hurt if he didn’t drive deep enough, hard enough, fast enough.
He continued to swallow her cries, every sweet sexy sound she made as he drilled her into the wall. He pounded her body with his over and over. Searching for a pleasure he could no longer live without, Rylan told her with words spoken into her mouth what he wanted, how he wanted her above all others.
Heat of the moment talk that was written in his bones. Talk he hoped would score her with the truth he somehow knew.
She was meant to be his.
Now.
Forever.
17
Pleasure bombarded her from every angle. He surrounded her, took her over, pushed her to reach for something so sublime she couldn’t catch her breath. Couldn’t think past the sensations splitting her in two.
She’d needed him to touch her, to make her feel alive, vital, in a way death had stripped her of. It was as primal and basic as that.
Nothing mattered more at that moment than feeling.
She had wanted him to take away the numbness, she hadn’t expected him to obliterate it, to blast that emptiness into a million teeny tiny shards of razor-edged euphoria.
Her whole being rioted with furious desire, with a need so deep and foreign Mazey wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
She didn’t care.
Couldn’t.
With a savagery that left her awed, Rylan took her on a carnal ride she had no idea existed.
Sex had never been like this. Greedy, lush, forceful.
