Glancing over her shoulder, she whispered throatily, “Come here and take me,” surrendering all to him.
Waves of heat reached her before his hands ever slid down her spine, yet she jolted at the first moment of exquisite contact. Goose bumps broke out over her skin, sensitizing her to his touch. And touch he did. Again and again, dragging his fingers over the ridges of her spine, over the globes of her bottom, down her legs. It was like being licked by flames. As if, as the flames burned, they wafted dark, drugging smoke through the air, every inhalation filling her head with a fog of desperation.
He circled his hands around both of her ankles and forced her legs to part. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of him. He caressed his way up her calves, dabbled at the backs of her knees and finally reached the curve of her rear. He traced a heart-shaped pattern around one side, all the way to her lower back, and then down the other side of her.
When he knelt, his face directly in line with the soaking heart of her, she rested her cheek on a pillow and closed her eyes, savoring every illicit sensation. It felt as though she were being worshipped.
Soft lips pressed into the underside of one globe, then the other. Tremors consumed her. He angled his head and— Oh...oh! His tongue. It stroked her where she ached, her body rejoicing even as it demanded more. She arched her back to allow him better access, and he took full advantage, thrusting his tongue inside her. He pinched her directly between her legs and slid his fingers through her wetness, allowing them to take the place of his tongue, moving in and out of her. He scissored them to open her wider, his thumb sliding up to her center and circling, pressing.
She fisted the sheets as moan after moan was ripped from her. Both the position and the pleasure left her vulnerable to him. Like this, there was nothing he couldn’t do to her—and she wanted him to do everything. There was nothing she would deny him.
Thoughts disintegrated then, the way he worked her a testament to the endless depths of the starvation she’d seen in him. Her tremors intensified. The heat inside her built, becoming an inferno. Pressure...so much pressure, building just like the heat, with the heat, and any second she expected to—
Shatter.
His hand swiped at her ankle, sending her legs farther apart, allowing his fingers to sink all the way in, and the pressure exploded inside her, the most sublime satisfaction clamoring through her, shaking her. But even as she shook, Jase took her by the hips and flipped her over, so that she lay on her back.
He towered between her legs. His lips glistened with her arousal, his chest rising and falling with a swiftness that matched her own. As she watched, he unfastened the button of his pants and lowered the zipper, freeing himself.
He lifted one of her legs and set her foot on the mattress, then did the same with the other, leaving her spread wide. His gaze locked on the heart of her, heating...burning...and he traced a fingertip down the center, drawing another cry from her...and a consuming need for more.
“I thought Strawberry Valley had become my home,” he said. “But it’s you. You are my home, angel. You’re where I’ve put down roots.”
The words cauterized a wound she hadn’t known she had—one she’d carried most of her life, festering every time she’d wondered how good people could die too young. Why her uncle couldn’t love her and her sister more than money. Why Jessie Kay had often chosen a party over helping Brook Lynn.
Yet here was this man—her love—telling her she was home to him.
She arched her hips in silent benediction. He fisted his erection at the base and placed himself at her entrance, letting the tip slide in...before stilling, hovering there, teasing and tormenting her with what could be.
“You’re mine,” he said. His gaze captured hers, emerald completely ensnaring blue, and he slid the rest of the way in, filling her, stretching her, fusing with her. “Never forget.”