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Without a scrap of fear, Zorah stared wide-eyed, beautiful, and so fucking infuriating in her trust. What sense did she have, trusting someone like him? Didn't she know better? She ought to know better!
With each breath, her chest heaved, drawing his eyes to the rounded mounds of her breasts, encased in a soaking wet T-shirt, nipples proudly pointed toward the sky. He'd labored to ignore them. The temptation pulled at him like gravity, yet he'd kept his eyes above her neck. He'd resisted and resisted, but, in this moment, that resistance imploded, and he looked his fill.
He shouldn't have.Fuck, they were beautiful. Heavy and full, with wide, succulent areolas he wanted to wrap his lips around. What color were they in the full light of day? A light cinnamon or a darker caramel? And the tips? Holy hell, he wanted to suck each one between his teeth and roll them around in his mouth, to feel the gentle give of her sensitive flesh against his tongue, see how hard she liked it, and what sort of small bites made her cry out or pull his hair.
Rapidly thickening, he stopped questioning and let his body do what his cock demanded. One hand left the deck boards to wrap around her jaw, the pad of his thumb tugging on her bottom lip to display a flash of her white teeth in the darkness.
She gasped, and her eyes lowered in a slow, languid blink.
"I'm sorry." Her warm, panted breaths fanned over his clenched jaw, doing nothing at all to cool the twisted mix of anger and lust coursing through him.
Jake shifted weight to his other forearm, lowering his body several inches, feeling her humid heat blasting against his bare chest. "You'resorry?"
Not nearly fucking sorry enough. Not for this little stunt and certainly not for the misery he lived with, having to be near her, think about her, smell her, all the while knowing she could never be his. That those breasts would never bounce while he fucked her and he'd never taste the sweet cream of her pussy on his tongue.
Her throat bobbed, the muscles undulating under his hold. "I didn't mean to scare you."
As if to emphasize her point, her small hand, warm and damp, curled around his inner thigh. Near his knee, below where his shorts ended, fingertips brushed the spot where his hair thinned, and his skin was most exposed. The barely-there touch set himfuckingablaze. Every nerve ending in the small patch of flesh came alive, blasting shards of pleasure outward from that meager point of contact. It was nothing, and it was everything.
Jake groaned.
Even in the darkness, Zorah's eyes burned with awareness thatshe'ddone that, she'd caused that reaction in him, and that, right now, he was as much at her mercy as she was at his.
"Let me," she started, then paused towet her goddamn perfect lips. "Let me make it up to you."
CHAPTER 16
Jake
The span of possibilities arrayed in front of him, each one more pornographic and lurid than the last. Mirroring her, he moistened his own lips, dry from the heavy breathing that had overtaken his lungs.
Swiping his thumb along the contour of her pert lower lip, he asked, "How're you gonna do that?"
Without moving a single other muscle, Zorah's tongue shoved past her lower lip andlickedhis thumb with a petulant flick, a move so erotically charged he lost the battle with his last vestiges of control.
Jake descended.
His lips crashed into hers with days, weeks, months of pent-up want unleashed into a single, searing kiss. A kiss that, bless her, shewelcomed.
Whimpering, Zorah nipped and kissed and sucked at his lips, her hands coming up to cup his face as he did hers, drawing him closer and even closer, as if she wanted to consume him as much as he ached to consume her.
The world spun. His entire stupidly long life was a funnel, twirling and whirling above his head and tapered down to this singular moment. Skin electrified, he collapsed on top of her, his bare chest compressing her impossibly perfect breasts and his thick length grinding into the cushion of her belly. Shit, she was so fucking perfect, he couldn't stop,wouldn'tstop, hips flexing and rubbing, shameless in his need. But he didn't care, he really didn't. Not when she felt this fucking good, and especially not when her body arched to meet his, her hard, beaded nipples dragging along his skin, seeking their own stimulation as they continued to ravage each other's mouths.
Jake tangled a hand in her hair and fisted a damp handful, savoring her small grunt of pain and thrilled by the way she redoubled her ardor in response. He should've guessed: his Omega was a lusty little thing.
His Omega. His.
Some dark, unspeakable part of his soul announced his claim, so loud he wondered if he'd growled it out loud. It was hard to tell. The elation of touching and tasting her wove together with the bone-deep realization pounding in his bloodstream.
She's yours, she's yours.
Jake pulled away, his mouth charging across her cheeks, licking her skin, inhaling her scent, mapping the terrain of her face like an explorer on the world's greatest conquest. Her skin tasted fresh and clean and delicious from the lake and perspiration and her own Omega aroma. He closed his teeth around the angle of her jaw, scraping the line with his incisors but falling short of breaking through. Zorah gasped into his hair, her fingernails clawing at his neck and shoulders and back.
Nuzzling behind her ear, he groaned a gutturalfuckagainst her skin as he reached for her breast. It overfilled his palm in his greedy, sloppy, unsophisticated hold. Not able to restrain himself in the interest of finesse, he plumped the tender flesh as the hard nub of her nipple prodded his palm. He pinched one tip and then the other, not hard, just enough, just testing, rubbing his thumb over the crest as they reacted to the pressure. She arched off the dock, the movement accompanied by a needy, feminine whine.
Jake growled, loving everything about this moment, loving that if he never did another single thing but play with these beautiful tits till he died, he would die a happy man.
Bending, he sucked one taut tip into his mouth, laving and rubbing it with the flat of his tongue, tasting the lake water soaked into her shirt that mingled with the heat of her skin, driving him even crazier. He sucked harder, pinching and tugging on the other. The wet T-shirt barrier, which wasn't a barrier, turned his already straining cock rock-hard. He wanted to see that in the daylight, too. Next time, next time they'd do this in the light. He'd spread her out on the shore and dribble water from his canteen over her breasts until she was soaked, allowing him to see through the thin material. Zorah whimpered and cooed and writhed and wiggled; each sound arrowed into his dick and spurred him on.
