Intent

“You missed a drop.”

I’m so focused on the sexy rumble of his voice that his words don’t register at first. His warm tongue flicks across my lip, gathering the drop of wine that escaped. We’re eye to eye, nose to nose, and both of our chests are heaving. The air is thick with sexual tension, anticipation, and undeniable attraction. Neither of us moves for several long seconds, waiting for the other to give a sign, any sign, to show that it’s time.

I don’t know where my wineglass is. I don’t know where his beer bottle went. What I do know is exactly how he feels underneath me as I straddle him. Our mouths are fused together as our tongues slide back and forth, faster and deeper with each pass. My fingers are in his hair, gripping and holding on tightly. His hands roam all over me, burning and scorching me with his heated touch in the most delicious way.

One hand slides up my back and his fingers thread through my hair. He cups my head in his palm, closes his fist around my hair, and pulls back to fully expose my neck. The pleasurable pain is both erotic and thrilling. He breaks our kiss and moves his mouth to my neck, feasting on me as if I’m his last meal. My fingers dig into his skin, my body’s reply to the deep, carnal need.

“You taste so fucking good,” he whispers. His lips are against my skin; the hum of his words makes my skin pebble with desire. “I want to taste you all over. Every last inch of you.”

When I feel his hands move to my leg and inch up underneath my dress, my back involuntarily arches, I raise up off his lap slightly, and a raspy moan escapes. Ace correctly reads the signs and seizes the opportunity to push my dress up over my hips. I reach down, grasp the hem of my summer dress, and quickly pull it over my head, revealing my matching lace bra and panties. Ace stares intently at me as his eyes roam over my body.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he murmurs.

His lips find my skin again and his hands move to the clasp of my bra. Deftly unhooking it, he slides the straps down my arms and flings it onto the floor. His mouth covers one breast and his hand covers the other. His teeth scrape across my nipple and an arc of electricity shoots through to my very core. My sex clenches and I’ve reached my breaking point—I need to feel him inside me.

I need to feel him, period.

I remove his shirt and quickly toss it behind me. My fingers move down his chest, relishing in every contour and ridge. When I continue across his abdomen, his muscles flex in response. He has the type of muscular build that I find extremely sexy. He’s not overly ripped in the way a bodybuilder is, but he’s toned and perfect like a naturally athletically inclined man is. My fingertips float over his skin and he inhales sharply. I can feel his patience wane with my every touch.

“You’re killing me.” With a deep, sexy growl of surrender, he quickly stands and carries me toward his bedroom. I can feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s all I can do to keep from grinding against him, just to feel him.

“Then we’ll die together, because you’re killing me, too.”

He places me on the bed and I raise my hips while he quickly slides my panties off. In a split second, his pants and boxer briefs are dropped to the floor and his completely naked body covers mine. Flesh against flesh, my heart beats faster and I’m all but panting from breathing so hard. He settles in between my legs, his hips flush against mine, and his mouth claims mine as his own. His hips surge upward and his cock slides against my clit. I moan loudly into his mouth from the contact, the rush of intense pleasure, and the knowledge of what will soon follow.

Ace slides down me until his face is at the apex of my thighs. With the first contact his tongue makes, my upper body automatically lifts off the bed and my fingers tightly grip his hair. “Ace,” I moan loudly and his enthusiasm increases in response. When his fingers fill me, the overload of sensations becomes incredibly strong. The stirring low in my belly is building exponentially with each flick of his tongue and curl of his finger. When his teeth lightly graze the cluster of the most sensitive nerves in my body, I can’t contain the scream of sheer pleasure.

“Damn, I love hearing you scream my name.” His voice is low and sexy, thick with need and desire. “I plan on hearing it many more times before the night is over.”

A.D. Justice's books