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I’d never felt a kindred spirit with an outlaw before. A criminal capable of doing horrendous things. The closest person I’d had was my brother, and he was now quiet in my mind. Likely disapproving of what he saw.
I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself from biting John’s lip until it drew blood. Moaning in his mouth as he palmed my chest and brought me closer to him.
When he moved his hand to the front of my neck, wrapping lightly around my throat, I pulled back slightly. Strands of saliva stretched from our lips, connecting us.
My eyes looked into his brooding oceans. A tinge of fear swept through me, having that bear-sized paw on the thin, fragile column of my neck.
“Don’t fear, little star,” he whispered in the shell of my ear. “I won’t hurt you. Never that.”
I shivered, nodded. Then I leaned to his ear. “What if I want you to?” When his brow fluttered, I added, “What if I want you to break me, so I don’t have to be this person anymore? No longer an heiress, no longer a noblewoman. Just . . . Robin.”
His voice became raspy. “Then I will gladly do what you wish, and ruin you.”
A smile quirked the corner of my lip. It brought something animalistic out of him. A guttural sound halfway between man and beast.
“Just know, little one,” he rumbled, “I’ve never been one to give up on a job. I can’t guarantee my ability to resist—to stop once I’ve started.”
My grin became wicked. “I’d expect nothing less, Little John.”
His hand tightened on my throat. The air squeezed out, past my lips, and he ravaged my mouth again with his, stealing the very breath from my lungs.
He pulled me onto him, and I looped my leg over his to straddle him. To bring him close. I wanted to be in his skin.
But Little John’s lap was too wide. I couldn’t get a good angle, so I ended up plopping down on a single knee, my legs resting on either side of his right thigh.
As I settled there and got comfortable, the pressure between my legs, caused by the friction of his knee against my slick heat, nearly forced a whimper from my lips. My eyes fluttered, and I saw the moment in his eyes when he realized what was happening.
John moved his knee, slowly at first. Rubbing my most sensitive area with his thigh and kneecap, between the fabrics of our clothes.
I pushed down on him, grinding my ass and cunt into his leg, while he choked the air from my throat and kissed me like he owned me.
My hands fell on his shoulders and squeezed, trying to find leverage to ride him. Without even penetrating me—without me playing with myself at all—his thigh did all the work and massaged my throbbing clit.
I hugged him when the sensation became too intense, wrapping my arms around his broad body, putting my forehead to his collar.
He returned the embrace, keeping me tight against him, letting me ride his leg and lose my mind. I was starting to unravel, seeing stars behind the lids of my clenched eyes as I lost air and the power to breathe.
Then his hand loosened, and with it came a whoosh of heady feelings—a river of lust and blinding light.
“Oh God,” I eked out against his chest, my voice muffled. “I-It’s coming, sir. I’m coming!”
The protrusion between his legs grew against my left thigh, even as my toes curled in my boots and I climaxed on his leg.
His hands fell under my arms to hold me up as I quivered from the orgasm. The little death, as they called it, because it was a sensation so explicit and unknown. It felt like traveling to a different plane of existence, if only for a few seconds.
When I blinked my eyes open, he was staring down at me, heat rolling off him in waves. I was damp between the legs, sticky when my ass lifted from his thigh.
“It’s not enough, little star. Not for you. That was too easy,” he told me. “You need something much harder to wrap your body around. Let me provide that for you. Let me show you the true meaning of pleasure.”
I nodded wordlessly, growing flustered. My cheeks burned and I licked my lips, eager but embarrassed. I glanced away from his delectable face. “I’ve never . . . my maidenhead has never been stained by a man—”
“Shh,” he said, putting a finger to my lips. “It’s not a stain, my star. It’s a blessing.” He tilted my chin to stare into his eyes, two thick fingers pinching to pucker my lips. “If you wish, I can withstand. Difficult as it is when I stare into your beautiful face, we haven’t gotten far enough for me to—”
“No,” I said, strongly as I could. “I want it. Please. Give it to me. Show me what I’ve been missing all my life.”
A smile quirked his lips. “I must warn you, lass, once you start, you might never stop. There’s no going back. And I dare say you may become . . . addicted.”
I leaned forward and kissed him. “Then turn me into an addict, you savage.”
