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…
Hope didn’t want this dream to end. Mitchell Anderson was kissing her like his need for her surpassed the one for his next breath. He had her in his grip as if he was loath to release her, not that she wanted him to. She wanted to be closer.
If not for the damn wall of pillows she had put up between them. It wasn’t because she didn’t trust him, it was more that it had become habit. And the moment that registered, she moved over the pillow wall, making sure to scatter them away so she could get closer to the man who tasted like nothing she’d ever known.
He pushed his left hand into her hair and skimmed his right down her side to her hip, until he was cupping the back of her thigh. His palm heated her through the fabric of the pants she’d put on. Damn her for wanting skin on skin. Damn him for making her crave it from him.
Her mind sent out one last warning, that this was only going to end in pain for her. She shut it down. This was something she wanted. Needed. Was taking.
“Mitchell,” she muttered against his lips, firm and yet soft.
“I’m fucking addicted to your taste, Flykra.” Small peppered kisses followed his statement and she arched into him. Wanting more.
She wound her arms around his torso, nails skimming along his shirt. He captured one wrist and she held her breath, waiting for him to tell her to stop. He didn’t speak, just pushed her hand beneath the cotton of his top so her palm settled upon his heated skin.
Following his demand, she slipped her other hand under as well and ran them over the taut muscles of his back. The man purred as she petted him, indulging in the tactical exploration. The deep vibration made her tremble as she realized what his reaction to her was. This was pure, visceral, and unable to be faked.
His kisses continued as she wriggled closer. Mitchell finally moved away from her lips and worked his way down her neck as she tipped her head, offering him easier access.
She couldn’t make out the words that slid from his mouth in between the fluttering kisses. One: they weren’t in English and two: she was trying not to come apart in a splinter of pleasure from the touches of a man who’d not even ventured below her neck yet. Though his body was pressed tight to hers, and she got to feel, up close and personal, the hard length of his cock as it rubbed against her core.
His growl grew as he rolled over, pulling her on top of him, settling her between his legs. Immediately, she rolled her hips and he grit his jaw. Brown eyes had laser focus on her face as she drew her lower lip into her mouth.
Mitchell clutched her hips, skimmed his palms down to her thighs, and gripped. She nipped the inside of her cheek, keeping her moan contained. He frowned up at her and tightened his hold.
“I want it all, Flykra. Moans, whimpers.” He smirked. “Screams.”
Hope dragged her tongue along the seam of her lips. He surged up as he yanked her flush against him, aligning her core to the hard presence of his cock. His arms ran up her back, keeping her to him with one hand clasped around the nape of her neck.
“Mitchell.”
His response was to leave more mind-blowing kisses along her chin and down her throat. She succumbed with barely a struggle, tipping her head. Wanting more. He latched onto the skin, right below her suprasternal notch. She giggled.
He froze.
Spearing her fingers into his hair, she tipped her head to meet his expression. “I’m not laughing at you.”
He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
“Where you’re kissing me. Trying to mark me. Right below my suprasternal notch.”
“Your what?”
“That’s what I was laughing about. I know this because I had a friend who was a doctor and he took great pleasure in telling me this was one of the first things he remembered. Instead of calling it the jugular notch.”
His expression sobered. “You said had.”
“Calvin passed five years ago.”
Hands stroked her skin, below the shirt, offering a level of comfort she needed without having to ask.
“I’m sorry.”
“He did it saving someone’s life, so he went out how he would have wanted.” A sad smile for the one she’d lost. Forcing a smile, she leaned in to kiss him. “I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. Calvin always makes me happy when I think of him.”
Mitchell stretched up and nipped at her lower lip. “Do you want me to stop?” She tensed. “I will if that’s what you want, but full disclosure, Flykra, I have no desire to stop until I’m buried fully inside your heat. No, that’s not correct. I don’t think I’ll want to stop, not even then.”
