Page 61 of Final Approach

He dropped his gaze to my stomach, kissing another trail down to the seam before stopping. “I’ve never had a woman before.” He spoke into the cotton of my shorts. “I’d like my first to be you.”

Need burst from deep in my core and through every limb in my body.

His first, and maybe his only. When we were rescued, he’d be going back to prison. This dangerous man I was growing to trust and genuinely like—I would likely never see him again in a few days. We could share his first together, two criminals finding pleasure before we both got caught and had to deal with the consequences of our crimes.

I raised my hands to grip his scalp. The growing stubble pricked my palms as I held him against my pelvis.

“Say the words, ángel,” he said, words muffled against my skin, “and I’m yours.”

“Yes,” I breathed out like a prayer. “Yes.”

His gaze searched my face for the truth. Arctic blue darkened to navy, then the previous openness morphed into the narrowed focus of a hungry predator with a simple blink. The firm hands holding me captive tugged on my shorts and pulled them down my legs. The fabric protested, sticky with my arousal and the jungle heat, but he coaxed them down to my ankles before burying his nose into the crisp dark patch of hair.

Madman breathed deeply, inhaling my scent as he raised his hands to knead my ass cheeks. Tentatively, he stuck out his tongue, taking an experimental lick at the seam of my pussy.

His responding groan and the feel of him gliding against me caused my entire body to spasm in his hold. He flattened his tongue and did it again, applying more pressure as if he was thoroughly licking an ice cream cone to stop it from dripping all over the floor.

Because I was dripping all over the ground. He licked me clean, then licked me some more, capturing every burst of arousal as my pussy gushed into his waiting mouth.

No man had ever made me this wet before. Ever. I wasn’t anywhere close to being a virgin, but Madman’s ministrations made me feel like every other man who’d touched me was a pathetic amateur. And I hadn’t even come yet.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he groaned against my lips, setting my flesh on fire. He looked up at me, capturing my stare before pressing a light kiss to the hood of my clit. “I love sweet things.”

Sweet things. Oh, how I wanted to be his only sweet thing when he touched me this way.

He stuck out his tongue again, drawing the tip beneath my hood and circling my clit in slow, lazy licks. My thighs shook with every lap, a growing need for release building like an electric current beneath my skin.

He was brawny and brutish, yet so fucking gentle with my body I could cry. The contrast of a man with the bravery to hold a jaguar between his thick arms, now held me like I was something he treasured.

My hands dropped to his shoulders and squeezed with every swirl, clinging to him like I’d fall over without his support. The bark at my back was bruising, as were the handprints he was leaving on each cheek, but I couldn’t be bothered to move anywhere but against his tongue.

This was his first time? Was it his God-given skill, or my abysmally lacking sex life that made me delirious from his touch? It really didn’t matter.

My eyelids rolled to the back of my head when another wave of pleasure threatened to drown me. Hoooooollllly shi—

Without warning, he drew my clit between his teeth and nibbled. Gasping, I bucked against him while white stars formed at the back of my eyelids with each scrape of his teeth along the sensitive nerves.

“I’m not going to last,” I groaned between staggered breaths as he took me higher and higher. “It’s been a while.”

He let go of my clit and stared up at me, his lips and chin coated in my juices. “I don’t need you to last, ángel. I need you to come all over my tongue so I taste you tomorrow.”

His dirty talking game was also exceptional. No notes, no—

He lifted my leg and pinned my thigh to the tree to gain better access. With a wink that could make a nun horny, he curled his tongue and slid it within my folds, thrusting so deeply, I nearly melted to my feet from the pleasure.

Gripping his shoulders again, I sank into the feel of his hot tongue against my core, each lick a stamp of ownership along my skin. I didn’t deserve this, but I’d steal it from him like the criminal I was. I could only see him. Feel him. His lips, teeth, and tongue devoured me like a last meal.

The orgasm separated my matter and turned me into atoms. The sounds of the jungle muted, my vision faded to milky white, and my body turned to jelly. Every single muscle snapped in release. He caught me when I fell and cradled my body bridal-style while lowering me to the ground, my legs awkwardly pinned with my shorts at my ankles.

“You are now my favorite flavor,” he growled into my ear as he held me to his chest. “I will not be satisfied with one taste.”

My pussy spasmed at his praise.

“Is that a warning?” My words were languid mumbles against his pecs.

“It is an oath,” he replied solemnly while he pulled the shorts back over my legs and up across my waist. He softly set me on the sand, then stood.

I peeked up as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his steel shaft free, as big—bigger—than I imagined. The tip, an angry purple, glistened. He locked eyes on mine, lust widening his pupils like a feral beast. He held my gaze as he rubbed the pre-cum over the tip with his thumb before gliding his fist along the long shaft, his body wracking with shudders.