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Fucking hell.
Moving my hands from her hips, I run them up her sides, over the bulky T-shirt, then cup her breasts in my palms, my thumbs grazing her nipples through the material.
She gasps, her lips parted over mine, her eyes boring into me at the sensation.
“You like that, Angel?” I ask, barely recognizing my own fucking voice. It’s deep and hoarse, and filled with need.
Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she nods slowly as I do it again. Her nipples pebble beneath the pad of my thumb and her hips rock, her center brushing across my cock.
I give her time to process the sensation, and then she moves again, this time reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it up over her head. Her pink hair falls across her lightly freckled shoulders, the ends curling, brushing against her nipples, as if pointing to where I need to be focusing my attention.
The look in her eyes melts me. Fear. Pleasure. Need.
Gripping her waist, I keep my gaze on hers as I pull her higher, bringing her nipple to my lips. I press a soft kiss to one, and then the other, reveling in the way her cheeks flush. A tiny gasp escapes her lips as I flick my tongue out, dragging it over the tender bud.
My cock strains against my pants, yearning to connect with her, but it’s not time.
Her breasts are perfection. Small and perky, tipped with strawberry nipples. I take my time, paying them homage, ignoring my own body’s reaction as she moans and gasps on top of me.
She’s wet, though. I can feel it. Her excitement has soaked through the thin material of her shorts and through my jogging pants.
“Take your shorts off.”
She doesn’t hesitate. Tilting to the side, she drags the shorts down, over her hips and off her legs, then tosses them to the side before settling back into place.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper, pulling her lips to mine once more.
Her hips are rolling again, except now my pants are all that’s keeping me from sliding deep inside of her.
I reach down, my fingers finding her wet center, the pad of my thumb rubbing against her clit.
She gasps, her body going still as I move my thumb in slow, gentle circles. “Priest.”
“Does it feel good, Angel?”
She nods, but that’s not enough for me. “Need the words, baby.”
“Yes,” she purrs. It feels so good.”
Keeping the rhythm of my thumb going, I run my index finger farther down, then slowly sink it inside. Boo throws her head back, her hands gripping my shoulders as she lets out a long, low moan.
I rub her, fucking her pussy with my hand as she gasps, her cries of pleasure testing the limits of my restraint. She’s close to coming. I can feel her body gripping my finger, and it’s about to happen. But as much as I want her to, I need to taste this woman. I want her release on my tongue.
“Hold on, baby,” I growl, rising from my position on the bed, ignoring my body’s protests of pain as I flip her, laying her out on the mattress and towering above her.
She reaches for my cock, but I push her hand away. Reaching for her knee, I spread her legs open, her wide eyes watching as I lower myself between them.
Her pussy is glistening, and she smells like fucking heaven.
Her fingers tangle into my hair as I hold her gaze and flick my tongue through her folds. Her grip tightens when I kiss her swollen nub tenderly—once, twice, three times. Pulling my head closer, she rolls her hips.
“Please,” she begs. “God, please.”
BANG!
The door to my room bursts open. Burnt is standing there, his eyes wide and filled with fear as a man stands behind him, a gun pressed to the back of his head. Several men I don’t know begin filing into the room.
“What the fuck?” I roar, clamoring up off the bed while shoving Boo’s naked body behind me.
