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Then he fell over me and the clash of our heated bodies intensified the tension building between us. I was swimming in a pool of desire and close to drowning in the deep end.
“You still own those brown cowboy boots?” he asked, kissing my neck roughly. Then his hips took on a life of their own as he rocked them against me.
I moaned some kind of desperate sound, struggling to pay attention as his tongue moved in slow circles between the sucking. “No, the heel broke.”
“Good. I hated those damn boots.”
Well, that was just insulting. “Hey, what about your ‘I’m so badass’ fringed leather gloves?”
He pinched my nipple and put me in my place as his hips thrust against mine.
“Still got ’em, and I’m still badass.”
I nipped his jaw and licked at his ear, making him shudder. “If I see you in them, I’m cutting off those fringes.”
A grin stretched across his face. “Don’t even try it.”
Then his mouth was on mine.
“Pudding,” I said in a quick breath.
“What?” He didn’t stop kissing me.
I turned my head to the side, allowing him to taste my neck and shoulder. My fingers weaved through his hair slowly. “You wanted to know what I craved when I shifted from wolf form. It’s pudding.”
He lifted my leg, grinding against me, and I moaned. “Chocolate or vanilla?”
I was tired of talking and my breath sounded as if I had run a marathon. Austin cupped between my legs and massaged as he spoke against my lips. “Answer the question.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to if this was the punishment. He stroked his finger deep.
“Chocolate!”
I made a complaining sound as he shifted on top of me again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting his head to look at me.
“The floor hurts my back.”
The next thing I knew, Austin stood up and pulled me into his arms. My legs were wrapped around his waist like pythons and he pushed me up against the wall. A painting crashed to the floor and the frame split. We were too busy trying to determine how far we could get our tongues into each other’s mouths.
I was trembling all over; never had I felt so aroused by a man.
Then I started working my hips and he turned around, trying to figure out what to do with me as we backed up against the window. I ripped the drapes down and the rod knocked over a picture frame on the TV stand.
“Oh God!” I cried out, so completely taken by his mouth all over me, the feel of his chest against mine, the smell of him.
“Shit, where?” he grumbled out.
“The chair,” I said, staring at the hideous recliner.
When Austin sat down with me in his lap, we almost went flying forward again. He pulled the lever and reclined back as I unbuckled his belt and pulled down the zipper on his pants.
This wasn’t the romantic scene I’d envisioned because let’s face it, I’d never envisioned anything romantic with Austin. It was always unadulterated, feral sex.
His fingers worked diligently removing my panties, and I wiggled my body so I could at least get them off one leg.
Then his mouth was all over me—sucking and rolling his tongue in rhythmic circles. While he tasted my breast, his hands were trying to shuck off his jeans. In the process, he knocked over the glass lamp and it broke into pieces. A strangled moan escaped from my lips as his hand slid between my legs.
