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“I feel excellent. I slept for almost a day and stood in a hot rain bath. Please?” I could sense his indecision, so I pressed. “I need you.”
“Yeah? You want me to hold you?”
“And other things.” I must’ve been the color of a tomato, if the heat I felt under my skin was any indication.
“Yeah? What other things?”
“Kissing me, touching me.”
“I see.” Dropping on the mattress next to me, he leaned in to lick the lobe of my ear. “Is your pussy wet?”
Goodness, the manner in which this man talked. I nodded.
“Fuck.” He began kissing my jaw, my throat. “I can help with that.”
Sparks ignited deep inside me, every part of my body hyper aware of this complicated man. Everything about him appealed to me, from the way he smelled—like tobacco and leather—to the shape of his muscles under his clothing. The long sweep of his lashes and the rough rasp of his voice. A knot of craving formed between my legs, an ache that was bone deep.
“I like the way you look in my dressing gown,” he murmured against my throat. His hand slid over my hip and along my ribs, and I shuddered.
He pulled on the ties and the sides fell apart, revealing my bare skin. I started to cover myself out of habit, but he held my hands. “There’s no reason to hide. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You can’t truly mean that.”
He rocked his erection into my hip. “I mean it, sweetheart. Feel that?”
“Oh.” I couldn’t contain a small smile, which he noticed, of course.
“You like that I’m always hard around you? That my cock and balls ache all the time?”
“Yes.”
He leaned over, chuckling softly. “There’s my naughty girl.”
Then he kissed me, but this was nothing like our earlier kiss. This was deep and thorough, aggressive. I could taste his hunger and possession, the fierce need, and I fed it right back to him in equal measure.
Pleasure raced through me as my heart pounded in my ears, and I held on as his tongue slipped past my lips to find mine. It was so intimate, almost shocking, but I loved the way he surrounded me, his tongue flicking and swirling. Heat jumped between us in a perfect circuit and I arched closer, needing more.
He broke off and trailed his lips along my jaw, then down my throat. Goose bumps followed in his wake and I panted for air. My back bowed as he kissed the tops of my breasts, a delicious torture that wasn’t quite enough. “Bax,” I whined.
His mouth met my nipple and drew me inside, sucking. The answering tug in my core caused me to gasp, and desire pooled between my thighs. He didn’t let up and I squirmed beneath him, desperate. By the time he moved to the other nipple, I was mindlessly begging. “Oh, please.”
Leaving my breast, he descended the length of my body until his shoulders were pressing my thighs wide. Instinctively I tried to close my legs.
“Relax,” he breathed and pressed a kiss to my folds. “I’ll take care of you.”
The first swipe of his tongue sent shocks through me, like I was electrified. “What . . .?”
Bax growled and did it again. “Your pussy is soaking. Just fucking dripping.” He licked my entrance, then hummed. “So damn delicious.”
Was this a thing people did in the bedroom? I hadn’t imagined it, never even considered it a possibility. Yet Bax proceeded as if this was perfectly normal, something we would both enjoy.
The button of nerves atop my sex seemed in perfect agreement. It was throbbing, pulsing, as if trying to work its way inside Bax’s mouth.
He shifted his attention there, and my brain lit up with bright colors. I moaned as he dragged his tongue over me, painting the flesh, drawing on my body. The pleasure was intense, nothing I’d ever experienced before, and I was soon thrashing beneath him, a mindless mess. My fingers curled into the bedclothes as every muscle strained toward the peak.
His lips and tongue kept at it, and then I felt him probing my entrance. A finger slipped inside and the resulting fullness came as both a surprise and a relief. I hadn’t realized how empty I was there until he entered me, and now I never wanted him to leave. “Oh, God,” I said on a long delirious moan, my hand drifting to the top of his head.
When he sucked on that tiny bud, my brain left my body. I became a quivering mass of nerves and sensation, climbing higher and higher, racing toward the finish as his finger worked in and out.
