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Her mouth opens for my tongue, taking me in, surrendering so deliciously as I fill her.
“Lilah.” I grind out her name against the slickness of her lips as I shift my hips just between her thighs, one hand drifting down to catch her panties and tug them aside.
I don’t know why that gets me so fucking hot, leaving her in soaking wet lace and just pulling them aside to fuck her, but it’s the last straw.
I need her.
Right the fuck now.
With one more kiss that burns my mind blank, I grip her hips, lift her up, and take her.
Last time was so raw, wild and swift, an explosion of sensations.
It was over before I ever had time to process more than the pleasure storming my nerves.
Now, I take my sweet time, savoring every last sensation of her tight flesh wrapped around me in a luscious grip.
She envelops every inch of me in her burn and it urges me on, deeper and deeper in her hot wetness.
Fuck, she feels good.
I have to stop myself barely an inch in, and then again—one inch at a time, as far as I can make it before I’m wrecked.
Every time I pause in little jolts she jerks and clenches around me with buttery moans, little ripples inside her caressing the length of my cock like she’s trying to pull me in deeper.
Deeper.
Goddamn, deeper.
I bury myself inside her a little more with every stroke till we’re locked together.
I can hardly breathe from the intensity.
From being joined to my Lilah.
I just kiss her harder, thrusting into her mouth, meeting the dueling spear of her tongue.
I fight the urge to kiss her into oblivion and the desperate need to keep moving, to take more of her with every thrust.
When she bites my bottom lip, when she wraps her legs around my waist, when she tightens her body around me and writhes in a sinful little twist, I don’t know who or what the fuck I am.
I lose anything that resembles control.
I lose my mind.
I lose a piece of my sex-cursed soul.
Snarling, I dig my hands into the bed on each side of her, bracing as I rock my hips hard, dragging in and out of her with a surge so fierce it steals our breath away.
I don’t know what we’re doing.
Kissing, fucking, fighting, worshiping, or maybe all four at once.
I just know we’re tangled up together now.
And it feels so fucking divine I can’t imagine ever feeling it with anyone but her.
My hips drive on, one hand pulling at her hair, urging her up into a biting kiss that devours her as much as she’s consuming me.
My mouth hurts with the fierceness.
My whole being throbs with the pleasure as we flow, two crashing symbols of flesh and desperation.
Every second I’m buried inside her ignites me till it’s unbearable.
We’re too wild.
Too perfect.
I pinch my eyes shut, losing myself in this, and then open them again because I can’t bear to miss even a single second of her face, her body, the beauty in every tensed, straining line of her.
And I see it when she comes.
Ecstasy crisscrosses her face, an agonized bliss that leaves her lips slack under mine.
Her eyes dilate, exploding with stars like the night sky.
Then it hits me, too.
This crushing impact, this force, everything that brings her off in a piercing cry, clutching at me desperately, losing our rhythm with her legs thrashing around me.
It’s the last ounce of pressure I can take, building up inside me to a bursting point.
When she locks around my cock, when her tightness wraps me up and pulls me so deep into those fluxing shudders, when I feel the wetness coursing between us as she comes, making my every stroke slick and smooth, I can’t hold back.
I’m gone in growling fuckery.
Dissolved into our beautiful mess, coming so hard it turns me inside fucking out.
My cock plunges deep, swells, and unloads.
My spine goes electric.
I become one long pulse, fusing my release to hers.
I’m wrung dry from head to toe and spent like I’m being crushed by the hand of God—and I adore every manic white-hot second.
I can hardly breathe as we fall down in a tangle of sweat.
My body doesn’t want to move.
But that doesn’t stop me from holding her close, from pouring everything I have into cradling her against me.
Even now, it’s like my body is hardwired to protect her.
To guard her at all costs.
To shelter Delilah Clarendon, including her poor beat-up heart.
Hell, especially her heart.
God help me, I will, for as long as she’ll let me.
13
Red Meat, Dead Meat (Delilah)
I don’t remember falling asleep.
Lucas left me that worn out.
By the time I came down from my high in a boneless mess, I barely had enough sense to snuggle up to him and pass out.
But God do I remember how he felt.
