My body melts into his hard one until his strong arm, coiled around my small waist, is all that holds me upright. I don’t know if I’m bad for him, or him for me. All I know is that this is as inevitable as an incoming tsunami, and I’m just bracing for the swim of my life.
We taste and suckle each other, and I’m so thirsty he could feed me his kiss all night and I’d still be dying in the desert. He grips my hair tighter in one fist and keeps me in place as though he fears I’ll pull away from his delicious mouth, and I’m so afraid this is a dream that my fingers tighten reflexively in his wet hair because if there’s a fire in this hotel, if an army of crazy fans comes storming inside, or if Scorpion himself comes into this bedroom, I am still not letting Remington Tate take his mouth off me.
The wet heat of his mouth unravels me, makes me so high, I moan and suck lightly on his thick tongue, loving how Remington groans with me and pushes it deeper, giving me more.
He grows restless. Among the slick kissing sounds echoing in the room, his drawstring pants rustle as he shoves them down his legs, his arm muscles bulging as they clench against me. The linen fabric pools at our feet, and then he rams his thumbs into the front opening of my bra and yanks at opposite sides until it jerks loose. My breasts bounce free and my bra hits the floor.
I’ve never felt so full until he cups the swells in one big hand and has to lift it higher to suck. He laves my nipples with his tongue, first one, and then the other, and he engulfs both gentle curves with his hands and scrapes his calluses against my straining nipples. I moan gratefully when he sticks his tongue back in my mouth because I’m just so hungry I can’t stop shuddering.
The slick kissing sounds echo around us once more. He squeezes one breast and shoves a hand between my legs, cupping me under my panties. He rubs me with the heel of his palm, and then rubs his longest finger along the moist folds of my entrance. Tremors of anticipation ripple in my womb.
He tears his mouth free, sets his forehead on mine, and watches as his hand moves sinuously under my white cotton panty. We’re so breathless I don’t expect his voice, guttural and rough as it explodes on my face, his forehead still resting on mine as he watches his hand caress my wetness. “Tell me this is for me.”
My arms clench around his strong neck as he teases the very tip of his finger inside, and a mind-blowing pleasure bolts through me. “It’s for you.” Gasping, I kiss hard temple, his jaw. A sound of protest leaves me when he withdraws his hand, then he grabs the edges of my panties, and tears them off in a single breath.
Excitement runs through me. He grabs me by the waist and flips us around, slamming me back against the wall. My legs fly around him as he cups my ass in his hands, and the next second I feel him—there, at my entry. His hardness meets all the exterior part of my slick wetness, and he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand.
“Are you mine?” he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me.
I gasp. Undone. Delirious. “I’m yours.”
His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. “Do you want me inside you?”
My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. “I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.”
His hand trembles with restraint as he withdraws it and, once again, he settles his erection between my legs. He doesn’t enter, but he allows me to feel what he will give me. Our gazes cling desperately as we rub. We rock our hips together. We pant. We want. And I can’t take my eyes off him.
He’s even more beautiful than when he fights and is cocky and angry. More beautiful than when he trains and is sweaty and tired. More so than when he’s smiling and playful. Even more than when he’s thoughtful and relaxed being rubbed down with oil. He’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen—his face taut and raw with need, his eyes dark and half-open, his nostrils flaring, his mouth parted to breathe, his neck chorded with veins, his tan deeper and darker as his overpowering arousal rushes color through his skin.
He holds my arms imprisoned as he caresses me with his hardness. Tempting me. Promising me. All I can do is whimper in a silent plea for him to take me. My sex ripples. My blood storms through my body. I’m being claimed by the man I love, and I am ready.
I.
Am.
Ready.
Darkened blue eyes watch me for a heart-stopping moment. One second I’m empty, the next he’s in me. He fills me slowly, and carefully, like I’m his prized treasure and he doesn’t want to break me—as if he thinks no one else will receive him as snugly, and willingly, and lovingly as me. He’s wide and hard, all man, plowing firmly into me. He shudders and groans as my sex muscles grip his pulsing length, and he’s so big. A new whimper comes, almost painful as I squirm, wanting more, wanting less. Deciding my need for more is beyond anything, I drop down even farther and throw my head back, a weak sound escaping me as my body adjusts.
Gently he grabs both my breasts in his callused hands and pushes his tongue in me until I swallow my own scream and drink everything his tongue feeds me. He’s pulsing fiercely in my channel, holding himself fully seated inside. My body trembles in delirium when he drops his head and runs his tongue over my jaw, along my chin, down my neck. When he suckles a nipple into his hot mouth, my insides grip as my orgasm starts building, and I shudder in fevered heat and thrust my hips wantonly against his.
“Remy,” I beg as my arms tighten around his neck. I clench my thighs around him, tilting my pelvis. The move shoots excruciating pleasure through my body as his hardness drags inside me. My eyes roll into the back of my head.