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“Ross...” Her voice is soft like velvet, heavy with sleep. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Go back to sleep.”
“Were you going to jump?”
I bite back a groan, close my eyes. Feel her sit up, her arms slipping around my middle, her cheek pressing into my shoulder.
“Hey...” I like her raspy, sleepy voice, her body draped over my back. Like it way too much. Her tits are so soft, her hair a cloud, her breath warm.
My black boxer briefs are getting tight, despite the sour taste of fear still in my mouth, the sweat drenching my T-shirt.
I turn and catch her face in my hands, trying to read her by feel in the half-dark. I trace her mouth with my thumb and she opens up, licking at the pad.
God. Fuck. My cock goes from half-hard to diamond in under a second. Her cat-like tongue rasps over my thumb, swirls around it, sucks, and I’m panting for a different reason now.
My other hand drops to her shoulder, then down to the swell of her tits, desperate to touch her, feel her. God, I love her tits. Big and heavy, too big to fit in my hands. I toy with a nipple through the thin cloth, feeling it harden under my fingers, and it’s so fucking sexy.
Small, sharp teeth nip at my thumb, and it shoots straight to my dick, wrenching a long moan from my throat. Damn... How is she doing that?
I pull my thumb away, using it to smooth over her lips, her cheek, all satiny warm skin. A sort of sparkling dark edges my vision, my thoughts ebbing away, my body one giant fucking throb of need. It cuts me, hurts me, winds me up tight.
Everything’s blank, everything but pounding this girl into the musty mattress, having her, pleasuring her, owning her, marking her as mine. I need her, fucking need her so much, and that weird something I feel whenever she’s around, the one that clogs my throat and grips my lungs in a vise, is back, harder to ignore.
She leans forward and her mouth whispers over mine. It draws another moan from me. Fuck, I’m so wrecked tonight. Aching for her. Her every touch cranking up the heat, the pressure behind my balls.
“Lu...” I whisper, my breath rasping against the softness of her lips, “I want you. Fuck, I want you...”
Her only reply is to lie down and pull me over her, her arms around my neck. “Ross...” she breathes, just my name, and it shatters my fragile control.
“Kiss me,” I order, my voice shaking, so rough I barely recognize it as mine. “Kiss me, Luna, like you mean it. Show me you want it.”
That you want me.
“Yes,” she whispers, kissing me, again that soft, unbearably soft brush of lips. “Please. I need you.”
Oh fuck, yeah.
Bending over her, I crush my mouth to hers, kissing her like I’m drowning as she’s a breath of air. We kiss and kiss, and fuck, I’ve never been so hard, it’s never been so urgent, so imperative.
Frantic, I break the kiss to tear her T-shirt off and cup her tits, weighing them in my palms, making them sway. Pulling down the straps of her bra, I lick her nipples, suck on them until she’s writhing and moaning my name. Even her nipples taste sweet, she’s sweet everywhere, and I want to taste more, explore every part of her.
Everything’s blank, everything but pounding this girl into the musty mattress, having her, pleasuring her, owning her, marking her as mine.
I trail kisses down her stomach until I reach her panties—lace and pink cotton with bows. I glance up at her as I ease them down her legs, and her hands flutter as if unsure for a second before landing in my hair, tugging a little.
She smells like sexy, aroused girl and as I yank down her panties the rest of the way and throw them off the bed, I spread her thighs and bury my face between them.
So wet, so hot, and the sounds she’s making, mewling moans and soft cries as I lick and suck on her swollen clit, as I used my fingers to fill her up, goddamn... My cock twitches and weeps, needing to be inside her.
If I get one night with this girl, one fucking night, I’ll show her how it could be. I’ll make her come again and again until she can’t walk straight, until her every moan and sigh sounds like my name. I’ll show her how good it can be, how good I can be for her.
Even if afterward she walks away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luna
It’s the middle of the night, and I’m in a barely familiar room. I’m drowsy and warm and the room smells of Ross—that spicy scent of sexy man, arousal, and a hint of smoke. He’s moving down my body, leaving a trail of kisses on my belly, on my hips.
