Page 133 of Sunrise & Serenity

“Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps. “Show me how much you can swallow, sweetheart.”

I have just enough time to raise my eyes and focus on his face, on his hooded gaze and clenched jaw, before he lets out a long, guttural groan. The muscles of his thigh jump under my hand as he throbs against my tongue, each hot burst hitting the back of my throat and filling my mouth.

I swallow, then swallow again, though some still leaks out. By the time he’s done, we’re both breathing heavily.

With a hand at his base, I lick along his shaft, cleaning up the drops that escaped.

His cock twitches against my palm, and he curses under his breath. “You’re killing me.”

With his hand under my chin, he guides me up and kisses me hard enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

A whimper escapes me. As if I’ve been waiting for his lips on mine the whole night. And maybe I have. Fingers tangled in his shirt, I climb into his lap, the steering wheel pressing against my ass.

Holden groans quietly against my mouth, sending heat spiraling through me instantly.

His kiss deepens, even as it slows. Thorough and devastating and familiar enough now that my body softens into him automatically.

He slips a hand beneath the hem of my top, rough fingertips finding bare skin, and I shiver almost violently.

Everything except this, except him, feels impossibly far away. No residency. No future demanding answers from me. Just Holden’s hands on my skin and the dangerous, terrifying feeling of free-falling.

“You’ve had your fun.” He pulls back, his eyes narrowing, his slow smile wolfish. “Now it’s my turn.”

Guiding me by the hips, he shifts me back to the passenger seat. Then he tugs his briefs up and zips his jeans, leaving his button and belt undone. He climbs out of the truck and stalks around the hood to my side, yanking my door open. “Come here.”

I slide toward him, only to have him hook his arms around my hips and lift me out.

“What are you doing?” I ask, wrapping my legs around him.

With a grunt, he turns and carries me to the back of the truck. He presses a button on the tailgate, lowering it, then sets me on top, the cool metal against my skin making me gasp.

Breathing heavily, he tugs off my boots and drops them to the ground. Then he flattens his hands on either side of my hips, bracing himself. “Take off your shorts and spread your legs.”

My lips part, and I blink at him for a second.

He raises a brow, waiting.

With suddenly clumsy fingers, I fumble with the button on my denim shorts, then shimmy out of them.

When they’ve been discarded, he taps my knee. “Spread ‘em, sweetheart.”

Swallowing, I plant my bare feet on the edge of the tailgate and open my legs. He skims his hands down the insides of my thighs to my panties. When he rubs his thumb across them, the damp fabric clings to my pussy.

“You’re soaked through, beautiful. Just the way I like.”

He rolls his thumb over my clit, and I gasp as a bolt of electricity arcs through me. “Don’t stop,” I breathe, lifting my hips into his touch.

His eyes flash, and he keeps going until I’m shuddering, then pushes the wet material to one side and traces my entrance. My breathing turns choppy, and just as I’m ready to beg for more, he slips one finger inside me.

I moan, stars dancing in my vision, and he grunts his approval, though he slides back out, leaving me empty and aching.

Without rushing, he inches my panties down my legs, then, once they’re off, tucks them into the pocket of his jeans. Even as I tremble, desperate for more, there’s no urgency in his movements.

“You’re shaking,” he says.

I let my head fall back. “You’re torturing me.”

His chuckle is low and dark. “You’ve been torturing me since I met you. Now lie back and let me look at you.”