He steps in without removing his gaze from me, and I pull open my towel to watch his face harden and his eyes flash as he takes me in, completely naked.
He reaches for his towel and strips it away, and my airway constricts when I see his large erection bobbing heavily as he comes to bed and uses another towel to gently dry my wet hair.
“I’m rubbing you down with oils first,” I warn in a breathless whisper as he finishes.
Smiling devilishly, he tosses the towel aside, grabs the arnica oil I was reaching for, and tosses it onto the carpet to join it; then he brushes my wet hair back, his eyes weighted as he cups the back of my head and lowers his head to mine. “Rub my tongue with yours.”
He parts his mouth on mine, and our breaths mingle, and a delicious shiver runs through me as his lips pull me apart and our tongues flick out.
“Your lip,” I breathe, so he’s careful.
He playfully nips me and brushes my tongue with his again, rubbing a little harder and driving me insane. “Your lip,” I moan, squirming needily beneath him.
He draws back. Then, torturously slow, he caresses the backs of my legs, awakening a thousand and one tingles.
“Remington, your lip . . .” I protest when I see the cut bleeding again, and I reach out to catch a drop of blood with my finger.
“Shh . . .” His tongue flashes out, and he licks and sucks my finger; then he lets go and watches me with those violently tender blue eyes as he trails his fingers up the backs of my legs to stroke my bu**ocks.
My br**sts rise and fall as he runs his fingers up my legs, then possessively cups my ass. “Are you turned on by this?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He slides his hands to the backs of my knees, down my calves, then slowly back up until I’m dissolving into my bones and dying.
“How turned on are you?” he asks softly, settling a kiss on my stomach.
“I have to put something on that lip again,” I breathe. A thousand flames lick my body as I sit up and reach with trembling hands for my salve and manage to press some to his cut.
He presses a kiss to my fingertip, and I close my eyes as a bolt of pleasure arrows through me. “Remy . . .” I say, melting.
“Lie back down,” he tells me. Dizzy with anticipation, I do as I’m told.
“Don’t kiss me, Remington,” I warn.
He whispers roughly, “Fix me up later.”
A shudder courses through me as he caresses my sex, briefly opening my lips with his thumb while, at the same time, he ducks to slide his tongue across the tip of one nipple.
I buck a little, mewing, and he laughs softly as he licks my other nipple, tonguing it, playing with it, before covering it with his hot, wet mouth and sucking.
He runs his hands up my body, growling, “God, Brooke. You knot me up and tear me open. You’re getting me in you now.”
“Okay,” I gasp eagerly as he spreads me wide, his erection pulsing and hard as he flattens me on my back and covers me with the heat of his body. His mouth sears my own, and I disintegrate on the mattress. We’re both wound up. I need him like I need air. The way our skins touch. The way his calluses rasp over me. The way my hands slide over his slick chest. I claw his back as he buries his face in my neck and his mouth works hungrily over me like he doesn’t know whether to kiss, bite, or lick, so he does all three.
“Who do you belong to,” he rasps urgently.
“You,” I pant.
He grabs my legs and pulls them around his hips, then pins my arms above my head, looking down at me, his eyes devouring my face, my mouth, raking me with a look that is dark, and tormented, and starving.
He curls his fingers into mine and crushes my mouth with his. This closeness to him—the tangle of our limbs, our tongues, our breaths—activates all the pleasure centers in my brain and all the mating instincts inside me. Fire streaks through my veins as our tongues rush to meet. I moan, he groans, my body tingles on every point of contact with his as he rocks his h*ps against me. His chest against my ni**les. His c**k against my sex entry. His thick, powerful leg muscles almost crushing my thighs. Our palms against each other.
My every cell knows this is my mate and prepares me for him. Just him. He lets go of me and palms my ass as we intensify the kiss, his fingers proprietary and firm, bringing me closer until we are perfectly aligned, and I tip my head back so that his tongue reaches every corner in my mouth. “Yes . . .” I gasp.
He draws back, and our eyes meet in the shadows. The need I see in his eyes takes my breath away. He is the most male and mesmerizing thing I’ve ever seen. He ducks once more to set his hot lips on mine. Wet. So, so, hot. I gasp as he slides a hand between my legs. He turns to suckle my earlobe, and I run my tongue over his skin and the stubble of his jaw, anywhere I can taste as he passes his thumb over my sex.