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She tastes like cinnamon, like honey, like everything I could possibly want. It’s crazy, so crazy, to be thinking like that when we’re caught in this crazy situation together. When everything about us being together is fake.
But that doesn’t seem to matter as I slide my lips across her cheek and down her neck to the pulse point at the hollow of her throat. As she moans low in her throat and tugs at my hair. As heat races through the both of us, her body turning molten as she arches against me.
I lick my way from one pulse point to her neck, savoring the sweet and salty taste of her almost as much as I savor the feel of her nipples hard against my chest. Almost as much as I savor the feel of her hips rocking against my own.
It wouldn’t take much to slide inside of her, to rip her underwear away and feel all that heat clamping down on my cock as she moves over me. But amazing as that sounds—and fuck, it does sound amazing—I want more for our first time than a lightning-fast race to completion.
I want to touch her, taste her, hear her—I want to explore every part of Lola. Want to feel her orgasm on my fingers and against my mouth, want to give her so much pleasure that she comes screaming my name, again and again and again.
I tell her so, whisperin
g every single thing I want to do to her between hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses—to her neck, her shoulders, the upper swells of her breasts.
She’s crying out before I even pull her dress down and brush my thumbs against her nipples, her eyes closing and her head lolling back. But that’s not what I want from her right now, and I pinch her nipples just hard enough to have her eyes flying back open. They’re dark and dreamy in the dim light leaking in from the living room, her pupils wide and unfocused as she shudders against me.
“Look at me,” I demand, pulling her face close enough to mine that I can feel her breath on my cheek. “Tell me this is okay. Tell me you want this.”
“I want you,” she answers, voice thin and breathy. “I need you, Garrett.”
It’s more than good enough to satisfy my conscience, more than good enough to have my body slipping the tight leash I’ve kept it on since the moment I first laid eyes on her at the lake.
Heat explodes inside of me and I slam our mouths together. I kiss her for what feels like forever. Kiss her until I’m drowning in her. Until our lips are swollen and sensitive. Until I don’t know where she leaves off and I begin. And then I kiss her some more.
I want her on fire, want her burning with the same need that threatens to eat me alive. I want her to lose control, to trust me enough to let me take care of her in every way a man can take care of a woman.
I want her. I just want her.
Chapter 16
Lola
He feels so good.
More than that, he makes me feel so good. Makes me feel beautiful. Desirable. Captivating. Necessary.
It’s quite the head trip for a girl who’s always been expendable, but then everything since I met this man—this prince—has been, so why should having sex with him be any different? Garrett is a walking contradiction and while I normally like a guy who is easy to figure out, he intrigues me as no one else ever has. Most of the time, he’s all calm, still waters, but the moment he touches me, the moment he puts those gorgeous lips of his on mine, I can’t help but realize just how deep he is. And just how much is going on under his surface.
There’s a part of me that wants to stop and poke around a little under the surface—I can’t help but remember the look on his face when he came out of that dream a little while ago—but as Garrett slides his mouth across my breast, as he takes my nipple in his mouth, I can’t do anything but moan. Can’t do anything but give myself over to the pleasure he gives me so easily. So unselfishly.
I arch my back and press closer. Revel in the heat streaking along my nerve endings, the pleasure sizzling inside my veins. Everywhere he touches, everywhere he kisses, is on fire and I want more. Need more. As much as I need to give him the same kind of pleasure in return.
I slide my hands under his shirt and up his chest, scratch my nails lightly over his skin, and relish the way his muscles go tight and his breathing grows quick and harsh. It’s my turn to play with his nipples, to flick my thumbnails across them and watch as his eyes go shadowed.
He growls low in his throat, and then his touch—and his mouth—turn rougher, darker. Flames lick their way from my nipples to my stomach, down my arms and legs, until they coalesce in the ache between my thighs.
“Garrett, please.” I rock against him, straining to get his hardness exactly where I need it. Desperate to have him inside of me. “Please.”
He laughs, then pulls his mouth away completely before blowing a soft, steady stream of air over my diamond-hard nipples. I grab his head in response, tangling my fingers in his soft, silky hair as I try to force his mouth back to my nipple.
“Don’t tease,” I plead, arching against him.
“Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to tease you.” He curls his tongue around my areola, sucking it into his mouth with a power so strong he has me gasping.
“Too much?” he demands, pulling back.
“No, no, no!” It’s a chant now, a plea, and with any other man I would be horrified at how close I am to begging. But with Garrett I don’t care—I can’t. Not when the pleasure he’s giving me is so intense, so all-consuming, that it’s all I can do to keep from coming before he’s even inside me.
“Take me.” It’s half command, half entreaty, and I don’t even care which one he hears. Any more than I care how hot and needy and overwhelmed I sound. Because I am all of those things, and all I can think about right now is getting Garrett inside me.
