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“Very badly.” She moans and lifts her hips, trying to force me to move. “Storm.”
“What?” I give a small thrust, and fuck, my balls are about to detonate. “What do you want?
“You.” She grips my arms and shakes me. Or tries to. Her eyes are brilliant over her flushed cheeks. “I want you, Storm.”
Something twists inside my chest, and I don’t even know why. She wants my cock, that’s all. And I’ll give it to her because I want her to the point of bursting.
Damn my mind for playing games on me, making me think there’s more to her words, and more to what I feel about her.
I was planning on pushing her more, demanding she tell me what she wants me to do to her—because, man, that’s goddamn hot. Instead, I thrust into her, hard, to stop my thoughts and drown the strange longing in a rush of sensations.
But it’s not enough. Even after she moans my name and comes apart, even after I lose control and pound into her, pleasure exploding my mind into smithereens, I want.
I want more.
And as I curl up with her, tuck her head under my chin and inhale the blossom scent of her hair, as I pull her arm over my chest and her smooth legs tangle with mine, as I stare up at the ceiling, listening to her breathing even out…
I need her. In the cold places inside me, something is shifting like a forgotten bullet, lodged in my chest. It hurts worse than broken bones, and at the same time, it feels so fucking good. She’s getting under my skin, burrowing into me.
I don’t want to let her go.
Chapter Five
RAYLIN
Sunlight teases my eyes.
Okay, let me rephrase: sunlight hits my eyes like a hot poker and ow, it hurts. I turn on my side—and smack into a body.
A warm, hard body. A scent of male spice and musk. Muscles rippling on a washboard stomach, black and red ink curling over flaring ribs, and further down…
I open my mouth, try to breathe and fail.
A very naked, very hard cock, large and curving upward. A pearly drop glistens on the crown, as if winking at me.
I look up and Storm winks at me¸ too, his blue eyes amused. “Morning, Sunshine.”
I scramble backward. Whoa, just one sec. Rewind.
Making up my mind to go. Passing by the house to say goodbye to Storm. Finding Storm and… Oh my God. Sex. Hot sex in this enormous, filthy-luxurious bedroom.
Heat washes over my skin. I scoot back—or try to. A muscular arm wraps itself around me and drags me back to that ripped chest.
“Where are you going?” My cheek is mashed to his pec, a pretty hard pillow, but it smells of him, and I can’t help drawing a deep breath of his musk. “It’s too early. Stay.”
He keeps saying that. Stay.
My heart clenches. I’d love to stay, stay with him, stay here, in the now, with no worries other than what to have for breakfast—preferably by licking the dips and planes of his muscled chest, and then moving lower, to taste his cock, and…
“Where did you go?” he whispers, and I jerk a little, realizing I’ve been straining to catch another glimpse of his hard-on.
“Nowhere.”
“Yet.”
Yeah, that’s right. But I don’t want to think about that right now. I let my hand drift over his chest, to the shiny red scar there, and then lower, where I discover more. A fine, white scar marks his skin from his side to his stomach. “How did these happen?”
He says nothing and I glance up, into his face. His eyes flash a darker blue. “What’s the matter, Ray?” he whispers in my ear. “Want to kiss and make it better?”
