“Youhaveto know how much I want this, Baz.”
He cups my face, looking into my eyes with that intense, red-brown gaze. “I need you to say it, Little Bird, or this ends here.”
God, I’m already so wet for him, so hungry for the hot slide of his cock. But the fact that he’s actually making sure?
My body is going to burn if he doesn’t put his mouth on it.
Reaching up for my zipper, I give it a tug. Let the dress fall to my feet, pooling on the ground like water. The black lace bra and panties follow.
Baz stares at me in wonder.
Then, just in case that’s not enough, I reach up to remove my devil horns and say, “Yes, I want this, Baz. I wantyou.”
That maddening, slow-burn grin slides across his mouth. “Leave the horns. They’re sexy as fuck.”
I do as he asks, then wait for him to strip out of his jeans and henley.
He stands naked before me, his cock hard and smooth, his muscles like a work of art in the moonlight. If I had a camera, I’d be takinghispicture right now.
He smiles at me again, and before I say another word, leans in and feathers his lips across mine—gentle, soft as a breeze—then spins me around, facing his bed. His hand wraps around my hair, lifting it off the base of my neck, tugging just right.
He licks a path up the back of my neck, then pushes me gently onto the bed, falling on top of me, kissing my neck, my back, taking his time covering every inch of flesh.
Holy. Fuck.
Can shoulder blades come? Is that a thing? Because I’m pretty sure mine are about to, his tongue swirling in hot patterns along their edges, his kisses devouring me. His mouth moves down along my spine, his hand stroking my thighs, sliding between them.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers.
“Please tell me you have a condom.”
He reaches for his nightstand drawer, pulls out the package. I hear the wrapper tear, then his hands are gripping my thighs, guiding them apart.
I arch my ass, giving him access.
“No conditions this time?” he teases, his hands trailing down my hips. “No one-time only, never-talk-about-it-again, don’t-tell-a-soul?”
“Just… just make me forget how to form… words,” I say, remembering his last words on the matter that day at the rocks.
It’s cute that you think you’ll still be able toformwords while I’m fucking you…
But Baz is way ahead of me, teasing my entrance with the tip of his cock, making me writhe, my core aching with need.
Sure, some guys are just good at sex—they know all the tried-and-true techniques, always make sure their partner finishes happy—but this goes well beyond just being generically good at sex.
But this man? He knows my body so perfectly it’s like we were born to do this,
He leans forward, kissing my neck again, tracing my skin with his nose, inhaling my scent.
And then he’s plunging inside me, sinking in deep as I arch my backside to meet him, taking him in. He pulls outs slowly, running his hand up my back and fisting my hair, tugging gently as he slides back inside, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to keep his promise, because suddenly I can’t remember how to speak.
He moves slowly, deeply, then speeds up, thrusting harder and faster, but it’s not hard enough.
I find my voice, forcing out breathless words as the heat crests between my thighs.
“Harder,” I breathe. I want him like that, fast and furious, unleashing the rush of pleasure that’s already building to dangerous levels inside.
He plunges in harder this time, and I push back against him, taking it, demanding it.
