Page 54 of Surviving in Clua


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His puff of laughter fans minty breath over my face. The tip of his tongue does that thing where it peeks out and tickles his top lip. “It’s hard to be friends with someone you can’t stop thinking about naked.”

“You think about me naked?” I don’t even try to stop the smile from spreading over my face.

“I thought we went through this on the phone.” He reaches up to push a lock of hair from my face. “But I’m happy to go over it again.” His smirk is hot—real hot.

It’s my turn to laugh. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my grumpy-ass neighbor?”

His face sobers and his big thumb brushes across my bottom lip, his gaze following its path. “You kissed someone else. I didn’t like it.”

“Jealous?” My tongue sneaks out unbidden to touch the tingling his thumb left behind.

He snorts. “Did he kiss you like I do?” He leans closer, mouth just millimeters from mine, stare moving over my face.

I shake my head, unable to even breathe past the resolution written in every line of his face.

“But one day someone could.” His nose brushes mine, his breath warm on my cheeks. “And that’s not okay with me.”

My eyelids flutter at the quiet gravel of his voice, it scatters all of the questions I should be asking right now. Thewhys, thehows, thewhat nows. My lungs just stutter, expanding my chest. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He smirks. And then the dam breaks.

His lips find mine. Hard. His huge hand cups my cheek. It’s messy and rough, all hands and teeth and tongue and pressing to get closer. I suck his tongue and nip his lips, a deep rumble ripping from his chest when I sink my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and drag him closer. And then my feet are no longer on the ground. Maybe I climbed him, maybe he lifted me, however it happened I’m looking down into his glazed gray eyes, his beard rough against my palms.

Breathing hard, he stares up at me, holding me up with arms wrapped beneath my ass. “I mean it, Kenzi, I’m done fighting this.”

I suck my swollen bottom lip into my mouth, brush my thumbs over his cheeks and nod, warmth, heat, nerves, fear, all thumping an undeniable staccato against my sternum. Holding his stare, I lower my face until we’re sharing the same air, until my nose bumps his. “Then we should probably talk about that orgasm you owe me.”

By the time he lowers himself onto the sofa with me straddling his lap, I’m sure of one thing—he’s been holding back every other time we’ve kissed. Big time.

His fingers dig into my hips, guiding me over the very real, very hard erection straining against his shorts. His head rests back against the sofa, lips parting against mine with his intake of breath when I arch my body into his and rock, grinding myself against him from mouth to pelvis.

One hand still on my hip, his other finds the back of my head, and he kisses me like he means it—like he’ll never stop. Sure swipes, soft sucks, sharp nips. I feel every touch of his tongue in every part of my body. His fingers clench on my hip, and I push down, a needy whisper of his name escaping against his mouth. My skin’s hot, my pulse is thumping in my throat, the thin material of my T-shirt clinging, rubbing, getting in the goddamn way.

Pulling back, I drag it over my head. The pen holding my bun up goes with it and my hair falls in a mess around my shoulders.

It’s like everything slows. Time, touch, thought, breath. He raises his head from the back cushion of the sofa, jaw clenched tight, both hands falling back to my hips. His gaze slips down my body, then rises to my face, and he reaches up and pushes my hair back, exposing me in a million ways. Staring at me like he sees every part of me. Not just the physical. The inside too.

“You’ve no idea how many times I’ve pictured you like this.” His gaze drops again and his lips part. “Wondered how you’d taste…” My nipples tighten under his attention, goosebumps lifting over my skin when he slides both hands up to cup my breasts. Deep tan over sun kissed skin. Calloused palms, rough in the best way. “How you’d feel…”

I hold still. Watch his face. The crease between his eyebrows, the slight flush on his cheeks and wet of his lips.

“What noises you’d make…” He rolls his thumbs over my nipples.

My whole body jerks in response. It’s heady, and intense, and I still can’t quite believe it’s happening. My mouth falls open on a pant when he repeats the rolling of his thumbs, his massive hands massaging. Kneading. Watching his movements with an intensity that shoots right to the core of me. “You’re fucking perfect, Kenzi.”

Something flashes behind his eyes too quick for me to catch before he sits up and pulls me tighter into his lap, wrapping his arm around my waist, crushing his chest against mine and guiding my hips around in a slow circle.

His hardness nudges at the lace of my panties through his shorts. It’s thick and huge and in perfect proportion to the rest of him. I circle down again, dragging a jagged intake of breath from both of us. Our mouths meet in a rough clash, like every iota of need and frustration that’s been building between us has finally exploded. It’s messy, and savage and completely worth the wait. His hands slide up my back, twist in my hair. He bites my jaw, drags my head back, and sucks my neck. He grazes my collarbone before finally,finallyclosing his mouth over the almost painfully tight bead of my nipple.

My hips buck, my back arches, my body officially one hundred percent overriding every single other need with the need to thrust and grind and rock against the hardness between my legs. The need for him to shove my panties aside and sink into me. The need for him to claim me.

“Fuck me, Mylo.” I plead, my fingers knotting in his hair, my body bowing into his as he sucks and kisses his way to my other nipple. The neediness in my voice would be embarrassing if it weren’t for his rough groan in answer before he flicks the tight tip with his tongue.

“Not yet.” He maneuvers us around, laying me on the sofa, his massive body over me, his pelvis wedged tightly between my thighs, his eyes on mine. “First, you’re gonna fuck my tongue.”

My eyes widen at the feral rasp of his voice and the fact thatthosewords came fromthatmouth. I grab at his T-shirt. He rips it off before I resort to begging for his skin against mine.

I suck in a breath. The man is perfection. Hard muscle, smooth skin, his hair’s come loose, his eyes are wild—glassy. I’ve seen him half naked plenty of times, but this time it’s different. This time he’s over me. This time he’s just slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties and is sliding them down my thighs. This time he’s pushing my legs apart, looking more like a Viking than ever before as he takes me in from beneath hooded eyelids.

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