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But then she gasps, arches, and my very last remnants of control shatter like glass.
My hands go to the collar of her shirt and I yank it apart, taking a primitive kind of satisfaction in the way the fabric tears and falls right off her body, baring her to my desperate gaze. She’s beautiful, so beautiful with her full breasts pressed up against a black lace bra only a few shades darker than her eyes.
The lace is open enough that I can see her nipples through the cups and I reach out, run a finger over one hard peak. Revel in her gasp and the need that vibrates so violently between us.
“Kian,” she gasps, her hands clutching at my shoulders, tangling in my hair. “I want to touch you, too.” She arches into my touch even as she says the words that ratchet me up another ten notches.
I’m done going slow, done worrying about Garrett and the past when everything I need is right here in front of me. Once my brother is back home, the future can take care of itself. Right now, Savvy is hot and trembling in my arms, as desperate for me as I am for her and I’m going to take her. Going to make her mine.
I don’t tell her that, though, at least not with words. Instead I grab her wrists, raise them above her head. Then lean down and capture her mouth with my own, using lips and tongue and teeth to claim her in a way she won’t soon forget. A way I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
But, God, she tastes good. Spicy and sweet and delicious, like strawberries and cream drizzled with warm summer honey.
I suck at her lower lip, revel in the gasp she can’t stop and the way her wrists jerk against my hold. My cock screams for relief at the movement, but I shove the need down as far as I can manage. I’ve spent all day fantasizing about this, and I’m not about to rush it.
Besides, this is different than all those times with all those other women whose names and faces I can’t remember. I want so much more now than to just get myself off. This, tonight, is about Savvy. About making her feel good. About arousing her to fever pitch and then drenching her in so much pleasure she can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.
And, I admit to myself as I pull her lower lip between my teeth and lave it with my tongue in an effort to stop the ache, I want to control her. To drive her beyond reason, beyond boundaries, beyond sanity until she wants me like I want her. Until she needs me like she needs her next breath…the way I’m discovering that I need her.
I nibble at her lip again, and she goes wild, her lush, strong body bucking against me. Once again, her wrists jerk against my grip, but I’m still not ready to let her go. Can’t let her go. One touch from her soft, slender fingers and this will be over before it ever really starts.
So I keep her pinned against the wall, using my hand and chest and hips. Make sure that she feels me against her from her shoulders to her toes. And then I devour her.
“Kian,” she gasps, her head rolling back and forth against the light blue wall. “Hurry up. Please. I’m going crazy—” Her breath breaks on a half-sigh, half-sob.
“I like you crazy,” I answer, then take advantage of her parted lips to thrust my tongue inside. She feels like silk. Like velvet. Softer than anything I’ve ever felt. Hotter than anything I’ve ever dreamed.
She moans and I try to gentle myself a little, to give her the tenderness she deserves. But then she sucks my tongue deeper into her mouth and dr
ags me under. I’m desperate, lost, drowning in sensation. Drowning in her as my shitty day disappears and all that is left is Savvy and the heat flowing between us.
She digs her nails into the backs of my hands, just little pricks of want, of demand, and loses it completely. Need explodes deep inside me, sharp and terrible and all-consuming. It rakes its talons down my spine, thrusts its heat so deep all I can think of is taking her, fucking her. Branding her.
She must feel the same way, because she’s clutching at me, wrapping herself around me as she slides her hands up my neck to my scalp. She digs in a little, small pinpricks from her fingernails that mix pain and desire, control and overwhelming need. And then she nips at me the same way I did her, teeth closing on my lower lip in a sharp demand I’m helpless to resist.
Lust explodes through me and I tighten my hold on her wrists, knocking her head into the wall in my desperation to get at her. I start to apologize, to ease off, but she twines herself around me and the last rational thought I can form is buried under an onslaught of want.
Burying my other hand in the long, sleek silk of her hair, I tilt her head back and feast. And when she sucks my lip between hers, I open to her, nearly fall to my knees when she thrusts her tongue into my mouth to explore mine as I did hers.
I take her wild exploration as long as I can—reveling in the fact that her need is as sharp as my own—but it seems like mere moments before I’m at the breaking point. Tearing my mouth from hers, I ignore her pleading little moan and the desperate clutching of her fingers at my back.
Instead, I press kisses down her jaw to the graceful curve of her neck, before moving on to the sharp angles of her collarbone. She’s soft and sweet and strong in my arms, and for a second—just a second—I’m overwhelmed by the need to take care of her. To protect her from everything, especially all the shit that comes with my fucked-up, public life.
She deserves more than I can give her, more than the irresponsible spare trying so desperately not to be the heir.
For a moment, just a moment, I think about pulling away. About giving up all this dangerous, decadent pleasure that suddenly feels as necessary to me as breathing. But then Savvy gasps out a plea, a brazen, broken demand that grabs on to me with feral claws and yanks me back under. And I know—God help me, I know—that not even the threat of hurting Savvy and dragging her down with me can make me stop what’s happening here.
Using my free hand, I reach behind her and free the back clasp of her bra. Then I let go of her wrists just long enough to rip the thing off. I have to taste her, have to feel her lush, gorgeous nipples in my mouth, have to devour her before I implode.
Sinking to my knees in front of her, I relish the feel of her hands digging deep into my hair, enjoy the sharp tug on my scalp. The little pinches of pain that only make the pleasure sweeter.
Then I forget everything but the ecstasy of her body as I bury my face between her breasts in what is very close to a frenzy. I reach for restraint, but it eludes me, slipping through my fingers like quicksilver. Then I reach for patience, for delicacy, but with this woman, I have none. Not now, not this time.
Instead, I latch onto her nipple and suck it hard into my mouth.
Savvy whimpers, her fingers flexing convulsively in my hair. For a moment I fear that I’m being too rough, that I’ve crossed the thin line between pleasure and pain that I like to flirt with on occasion. But her hips are moving, shifting, pumping restlessly against me, and I know she’s with me all the way.
It’s enough to tell me that she’s still here, with me. That she still wants what I want.
