“Wyatt,” she whispered, looking at his cock, disappointment in her eyes.
Who had a woman like her? How could he not want to keep her? To protect her? She enjoyed giving him pleasure. It was impossible not to love her just for that. She had a soft spot inside of her, the one he wanted to protect. She was the sexiest woman alive, but trained to be a deadly soldier. Major turn-on. And then she had that knife…
“You’ll get your chance, woman. Right now, I’m so damned hungry I could eat you alive. Get on the bed. Take off the panties so I don’ go crazy and rip them off of you. You can leave the boots on.”
He reached down with one hand and helped her to her feet. Graceful. Fluid. Her body moved like poetry. She walked across the room in front of him, her hips swaying, her long hair falling like a waterfall down her back to the curve of her very fine ass. She crawled onto the bed. Knees and hands, looking over her shoulder at him. Crawled. If it was possible, he got harder. He hadn’t thought a woman could make him come just by crawling on a bed, but now he considered it.
She rolled over and lay down, the same graceful, fluid movement that robbed a man of both breath and sanity.
“Put your hands above your head and keep them there. Open your legs for me.”
She did both without a word. No questions. Her face soft. Her eyes hot. Her breasts shifted and beckoned. He could see the moisture caught in the tight little curls at the junction of her legs. His mouth watered and he knelt at the end of the bed to move between her boots, and then her thighs.
She smelled like heaven. He licked up her thigh and plunged his tongue deep, hungry for her addicting taste. He’d been craving her honeyed spice for two weeks, going through withdrawals, and he devoured her like the starving man he was. She cried out, a mewling keen with his name on her breath. Her body thrashed, her head tossed and she came hard, spilling treasure in his mouth.
“More, damn it,” he ordered. “Give me more.” His tongue and fingers were ruthless, demanding, driving her up faster the second time, greedy for her orgasm, for the breathy sound of his name as she gave herself to him, trusted him with her body. With her mind. With her heart. His.
Pepper couldn’t possibly stop herself, not when he was being so bossy and arrogant, not when his mouth was making her burn so hot she couldn’t think of anything but him. She rarely thought of anything but him, unless it was the babies, but they were far from even the edges of her consciousness. Her body fragmented, came apart, and still he didn’t stop, licking and sucking and using his teeth in a way that should have alarmed her but only made her want more.
She tried holding the sheet to anchor herself, bunching the material into her fists, but she flew apart and he didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. Already, even as the aftershocks started, the next one was rolling up, harder and faster with far more power.
“Wyatt.” She tried to call his name, but it came out a sob. A gasp. A plea. It came out a breathy moan and her body exploded a third time.
He was up and over her, slamming into her hard, his large cock driving through her hot folds like a jackhammer, an invasion that felt shocking. He was too big, her body too tight, but she unfolded for him, the friction making her sob and plead all over again. He lifted his head to watch her face as he pounded into her. She couldn’t see that his injuries in any way had slowed him down.
God, he was beautiful. His face should have been carved in stone by a master, his body, hard and hot and purely masculine. His cock filled her. Completely. Beyond possible and still, she wanted more of him, all of him. She loved that he poured himself into her. That he was a little rough, and yet always caring of her.
She felt the pressure building and building, something powerful coiling tighter and tighter. The burn just got hotter and hotter. She closed her eyes, needing to let go.
“Don’ you dare,” he ordered, and leaned down to place a stinging bite on her left earlobe. “Open your eyes and look at me. I want you lookin’ at me when you come. And you wait for me this time. Let it build, babe. Just look at me.”
She loved that too. She shouldn’t. He was too bossy in bed, but still, she reaped the benefits and his body never once stopped pounding into hers. She didn’t see how she could stop the inevitable, but she tried, lifting her lashes, looking into his eyes. She loved his eyes, the way they began to glow like a great jungle cat’s. She loved the way they focused on her, so predatory, so hungry and yet, she could see something else there. Something soft and exclusive, just for her.
“Wyatt.” She whispered his name, brought her hand up to stroke her fingers down his face. “I can’t…”