My eyes drift shut as he envelops me in his arms and immediately starts licking my neck. “Remy . . .” I breathe.
His teeth graze the back of my neck and then he rasps, into my ear, “Nothing in this world tastes as good as you, your skin, your tongue, nothing is as sweet and juicy as your *.” He lifts me suddenly from the water and turns me around, but he remains seated in the tub and his face is level with my sex. He spreads his hands on my thighs to part my legs wider and buries his head between my legs, kissing my * for a whole minute, stroking my clit with his tongue, then shoving his tongue into my channel. I can feel his growl vibrate all the way through me, and when he’s done tasting to his pleasure, he turns me back around and lowers me back with him.
“You get even wetter after you come,” he tells me in my ear, his voice thick as syrup, then he quietly starts soaping my hair. “And these . . . are bigger and heavier.”
He runs soapy hands over my breasts, and all my blood seems to be pumping south to my clit, and to the tips of my nipples. “Yes,” I barely manage. “They’re so sensitive, they’re always puckered.”
“They want to be sucked,” he breathes against the back of my ear, and the way he rolls that in his tongue, as though he’s already tasting my puckered nipples, makes my clit throb.
I can feel his erection on my back, and it’s so freaking hard, it pulses against my skin, and my tongue is restless in my mouth because I need to wrap it around the head of his cock so badly. I take some soap and scrub my face, trying to get rid of all this makeup.
“There,” I say, turning and quickly lathering his hair.
He watches me with a smirk, like he knows the reason for my hurry. As I kneel and run shampoo over his hair and try to wash it off with a conch by the side of the tub, I straddle him so that the huge bulge of his erection—the huge delicious bulge—is right there, between my thighs, as I wash off his shampoo. He leans over and starts sucking the wet drops of water from my nipples. I cry out, and he grabs my ass and drags me harder against the bulge while his sucking motions make my toes curl.
“Does that hurt?” he rasps, tugging the tip of a nipple with his teeth.
“No, ooh, Remy, it feels so good.”
He groans and rocks his hips to me as he repeats his sucking on my other breast.
“Shit, Brooke, I could come just sucking you, hearing you . . .”
“I could come being sucked . . . hearing you groan . . .”
He grabs one breast and sucks the other so hard, I whimper and start moving over his hips, and before I know it, I’m imagining lifting my hips, taking his cock in me, and riding him, and begging him to fill me, again and again. He halts me.
“I’m not coming in a tub. The only place I’m coming is on you,” he rumbles.
“Take me to bed to fool around,” I anxiously breathe, wrapping my arms around his neck.
By the time he carries me out of the tub and wraps me in a towel, bringing me to bed, I’m a quaking mass of red-hot need. What he says next makes me quake even harder.
“I want to tear you to pieces, I want you so much. I want to pinch, bite, and suck your nipples, all at once.” He lays me on the bed and opens the towel over me, then he immediately starts licking me dry. Oh god, I can’t breathe, think, I think I can’t even live as he starts pinching my nipples while licking me elsewhere.
“Remington . . .”
He is mesmerizing. The atmosphere around me has changed until all we have is a bed, and me, and him. I swear I can feel the thunderbolts between our bodies. He swirls his tongue up my throat, and I almost break at the feel of his familiar, deliciously raspy calluses on my skin when he drags them down my curves. “I’ve seen you . . . in my head . . . every fucking hour of every day . . .” he murmurs.
He scents my neck and cups one breast again, and I shudder when he squeezes the flesh and licks my collarbone. My fingers run down his slick back, his every muscle delineated under my fingers, and oh my god, he is holding me. In his arms. He’s wet, the air cold, but all he wants is to dry and lick me.
I grab his stubbly jaw in both my hands. “Remington Tate,” I moan, crushing my mouth against his.
He takes my lips with even more force, sucking my tongue. “Brooke fucking Dumas.” Watching me with hot eyes, he tortures my nipples with his thumbs, and I slide my hand down his body and start caressing his hard length.
“Make me kiss you.” Curling my fingers around the head of his erection, I suck greedily on his wet tongue. “Tell me to kiss you right here. If I can’t have you between my legs, I want you in my mouth.”
He groans and slides his hands up to my cheeks. “That’s where I want to be. The way you use your little teeth. Run that tongue over me like you want to live on me. I want to see these lips rimming the base of my cock so bad, I won’t even last when I do . . .”