I adjust myself on his hips, my hand slipping down toward his pants. I shift to undo the top button, bracing myself on his shoulder. “I say you need to get your cock out, warrior.”
He reaches out and lets his hands drift down over my hair. “Lead you into battle?”
“Something like that.” I bite my lip as I tug down his zipper. I can feel him hard, bare, ready beneath me. I’m wet as hell again.
He knows. He puts one hand at the small of my back, the other slipping between my legs, pushing the dress up. My clit screams with pleasure the moment his fingers slide against me, slick and hard.
“Christ,” he murmurs, staring at me with shiny eyes. “You’re always good to go.”
“Only with you,” I say, leaning forward and kissing along his neck, taking in his woodsy, spicy scent that throws me into another wave of lust. I could live my whole life with my face buried here, feeling the pulse along his neck, smelling every ounce of this primal man.
“That suits me just fine, love,” he says, grabbing my dress and pulling it over my head. “Get this off. I want to suck on those fantastic tits of yours.”
Jeez. Even the way he says “tits” is nearly enough to make me come. Then again, the man could read the phonebook in that warm, slightly growly voice of his, and it would be better than the dirtiest erotica.
I raise my arms and the dress is gone, and I’m completely naked now on his lap. Seems to be a common theme here.
But I don’t feel any shame, and if I’m vulnerable at all, it’s eclipsed by the way he’s staring at me, nearly dumbfounded, as if he can’t believe his luck. His eyes rake over my body, hot with desire I can feel. He frowns, almost in anger, and mutters something so low I can’t hear.
Then he’s leaning over, cupping my breast with large, warm hands, and pulling my nipple into his mouth. My body becomes a roman candle, fizzing, burning, begging to go off.
I moan loudly, grinding myself into his cock, desperate for penetration.
“Easy,” he murmurs, sending more shivers along my spine, his tongue lapping at my nipple until it nearly hurts. My other breast is practically aching, needing his touch, and when he moves his wet, hot mouth over, my body shakes in relief.
“Fuck,” I say with a moan, throwing my head and shoulders back, trying to push myself into him, wild, crazy, and desperate for more. I reach down and around, grasping his cock and pulling it out of his pants.
“Easy,” he warns again, pulling his mouth away from me. “You don’t know the power you have,” he says, gazing up at me.
“I think I do,” I tease, gripping him harder.
He pinches his eyes shut, his full, luscious mouth dropping open in a moan. God, his sounds completely undo me, a thread being pulled looser and looser until I’m flayed at the seams.
“Please, love,” he begs, cupping my face with his hand while staring feverishly at my lips. “Not yet. Let me at least get a condom out before I lose it.” He reaches for his cargo pocket but I put my hand on top of his.
“Let me,” I tell him. I reach in and pull it out, tearing the foil open with one hand. He leans in, kissing me lightly, lips brushing lips, until I start unrolling the condom over his thick, wet head. Then the kiss deepens, a slow, hard pull that reaches deep inside me, feeding the hunger. Our mouths, lips, and tongues dance like savages with each other, violent and ravenous and wild.
He suddenly grabs my waist and hoists me up a few inches, positioning his cock just so before lowering me. I gasp at the intrusion, my body so fucking ready yet so unprepared that I have to remember to breathe.
“Fuck me,” he mutters against my neck as he deliberately drives his cock upward and into me, my muscles expanding around him as much as they can. “So fucking good, Kayla. You feel so fucking good.”