“I’m here, angel,” he breathed, nibbling across my cleavage to my other breast. His diabolical fingers tugged at the wet nipple he’d left behind, pinching it gently until I pushed up and into his hand. “Don’t fight me. Let me love you.”
I realized then that I was pulling at his hair, trying to urge him away even as I fought to get closer. Gideon had me under siege, seducing me with his stunning male perfection and intimate expertise with my body. And I was surrendering. My breasts were heavy, my sex wet and swollen. My hands roamed restlessly as my legs caged him.
Still, he slipped farther away from me, his mouth whispering temptation across my stomach. Missed you so much … need you … have to have you … I felt a hot wetness slide over my skin and looked down to see that he was crying, too, his gorgeous face ravaged by the same surfeit of emotion flooding me.
With shaking fingers, I touched his cheek, trying to smooth away the wetness that only returned the instant it was wiped away. He nuzzled into my touch with a soft, plaintive moan, and I couldn’t bear it. His pain was harder for me to deal with than my own.
“I love you,” I told him.
“Eva.” He slid back onto his knees and rose, his thighs spread between mine, his cock thick and hard and bobbing under its weight.
Everything in me tightened with ravenous greed. His big body was carved with rock-hard slabs of tautly defined muscle, his tanned skin sheened with perspiration. He was so powerfully elegant, except for his penis, which was bluntly primal with its thick coursing veins and wide root. His sac, too, hung large and heavy. He would make a statue as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David, but with a flagrantly erotic edge.
Honestly, Gideon Cross had been designed to fuck a woman right out of her mind.
“Mine,” I said harshly, pushing up and scrambling gracelessly into him, pressing my torso tightly into his. “You’re mine.”
“Angel.” He took my mouth in a rough, lust-fueled kiss. Lifting me, he moved, turning us so that his back was to the headboard and I was spread over him. Our flesh slid against each other, slickened by sweat.
His hands were everywhere, his muscled body straining upward as mine had done. I cupped his face, licking fast into his mouth, trying to satisfy my thirst for him.
He reached between my legs, his fingers delving reverently into my cleft. The roughened pads stroked over my clit and skirted the trembling opening to my sex. With my lips pressed to his, I moaned, my hips circling. He fingered me leisurely, building my need, his kiss gentling into a slow, deep fucking of my mouth.
I couldn’t breathe for the pleasure, my entire body quivering as he cupped me in his hand and his long middle finger slid lazily into me. His palm rubbed against my clit, his fingertip stroking over delicate tissues. His other hand gripped my hip, holding me in place, restraining me.
Gideon’s control seemed absolute, his seduction wickedly precise, but he was trembling harder than I was and his chest was heaving more forcefully. The sounds spilling from him were tinged with remorse and entreaty.
Pulling back, I reached for his cock with both hands, gripping him firmly. I knew his body well, too, knew what he needed and desired. I pumped him from root to tip, drawing a thick bead of pre-ejaculate to the wide crest. He pushed back against the headboard with a groan, his finger curving inside me. I watched, riveted, as the thick drop rolled to one side of his glans, then slid down the length of him to pool at the top of my fist.
“Don’t,” he panted. “Too close.”
I stroked him again, my mouth watering as a gush of pre-cum streamed out of him. I was wildly aroused by his pleasure and the knowledge that I had such a profound effect on such a blatantly sexual creature.
As he cursed, his fingers left me. He grabbed my hips, dislodging my grip on him. He yanked me forward, then down, his hips bucking upward, his raging cock driving into me.
I cried out and gripped his shoulders, my sex clenching against the thick penetration.