She gasped, her legs trembling.
His canines sank in deeper, piercing her skin. She cried out and tried to yank her flesh from his mouth.
He let her go. “It won’t scar, but you’ll wear my mark for the week.” Masculine satisfaction, lazy and dark, echoed in his tone.
She opened her mouth to protest, but one long, slow swipe of his tongue across her clit forced a whimper from her instead. He did it again, faster this time.
“Let’s get one more from you before we get serious,” he whispered, his heated breath all but killing her. Then he went to work, alternating between soft kisses and harder licks, keeping her on the edge, but not letting her fall over.
Sweat rolled off her forehead, and she moved against him, seeking relief, losing any sense of shyness. All that mattered in the world was reaching that peak he held so tantalizingly away from her. His fingers worked magic inside her, twisting and rubbing, but not quite giving her enough to ease the tension.
He increased the pressure, and a moan caught in her throat. “Now, baby.” He sucked.
She pushed against his mouth, waves crashing through her. The orgasm shook her, head to toe, emanating from his talented tongue. He prolonged the ecstasy until her body fell in limp abandonment onto the warm sleeping bag. She murmured a sound without any real meaning.
He drifted up her body, his skin hot, until his mouth took hers. The drugging kiss slid through her, soothing her ragged breathing. Then he clamped a hand across her butt, half lifted her, and powered inside her. Even with her body satiated, her core wet, the strength in his stroke took her by surprise and forced the air from her lungs.
Her eyelids flew open, and she pressed both hands against his fiery hot chest.
“Now we get serious.” He held her tight, moving out, and hammered back into her.
She’d thought she was done. Not even close. Hunger, edged with a pained demand, hit her so hot and so fast she could only hold on tight. He pounded into her, showing no mercy, a dangerous predator fully unleashed. She kicked her other leg free and wrapped them around his waist, tilting her pelvis for more. God, so much more.
He fucked her, hard and fast, his harsh breath panting in her ear. Each thrust jarred her clit, shooting lava across every nerve. The slap of flesh against flesh filled the tent, along with the overwhelming heat that was Daire Dunne. The thrusts increased in speed, and a galvanizing heat seared her, rippling into fire, as she exploded into a violent orgasm. It washed over her, cooling her, taking everything she had.
He stilled, ground against her, and came hard, his body shaking.
Finally, he rested against her. Her legs dropped to the ground. Still inside her, he reached around and drew the bag over them. “Now you talk.”
She shut her eyes, her body too damn relaxed to drum up the energy to fight.
A ripple sounded through the night. Then a piercing light shone down, even through the tent.
“Damn it.” Daire withdrew and shoved his way out of the bag, tossing the sweater at her. “Get dressed.” Helicopter blades pounded through the weakening storm outside.
She shrugged into the sweater and stood. “You’re naked.”
“If it’s my brother, he’s seen me nude before. If not, we’re in a shitload of trouble, and my bare skin is the least of our worries.” He unzipped the tent and peered out, turning back to pin her with a dark green gaze. “It’s Adam, which is good news. Don’t think for a second our conversation isn’t going to happen. You have a reprieve, baby. Take it and get ready to tell all.”