Without thinking, without allowing himself to think, he settled his length against her, letting her feel the erection that had plagued him all damn day. She dragged in a ragged breath and searched his face.
Afraid of what she might see, what he might see reflected in her eyes—specifically a mirror image that looked far too much like his father—he used one hand to fist her wrists above her head and the other to lock her hips in place. Without hesitation or finesse, he slammed his mouth over hers.
He wanted to punish her. He wanted to hurt her the way she had hurt him. He wanted to…love her.
And that’s when it hit him. He already did love her.
Too bad all she wants from me is a quick, dirty fuck.
*
Samantha wasn’t sure what had happened. All she knew was that, for a moment, there had been something in Ozzie’s eyes she hadn’t seen before. A hardness. A bitterness. And that thing he had said about throwing her a bone? That wasn’t like him. It was too coarse, too rude. Ozzie was neither of those things. But then… Oh! Then he kissed her, and she couldn’t think.
His tongue was a wet, hot wonder invading her mouth over and over. Filling her up, then leaving her empty and hungry, only to fill her up again. And his body… Holy fucking smokes, his body was a wall of hard, wonderful flesh. He rubbed himself against her, letting her feel the resistance of his muscles, the flex of his cock even as he kept her hands imprisoned in the vise of his grip.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to stroke him and squeeze him. Not being able to was a frustration and a huge turn-on. She was at the mercy of this big, warm, wonderful man, and she reveled in the sensation of being powerless against his desires. Warmth settled low in her belly and quickly grew into scorching heat.
“Ozzie.” She gasped his name when he allowed her up for a breath. The taste of him was sharp on her tongue. The sweetness of the dessert he’d eaten mixed with the flavor of the man himself until she was giddy, drunk on each unique note.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, leaving a string of kisses across her cheek and down the side of her neck. When he reached her hammering pulse-point, he wrapped his lips around her flesh and sucked.
She felt the pull of his mouth at the tips of her breasts and lower, in her belly and in the empty, lonely place between her thighs. “You,” she whispered, giving him the truth. Her truth. Wondering if he grasped the magnitude of it. “All I want is you. Every way, any way, just—”
She squeaked when he shoved his uninjured thigh between her legs. It wasn’t a gentle move. He wasn’t easy with her. But she didn’t need easy. She needed hard and hot and…him.
With his hand on her hip, he guided her. Dragging her forward along his muscled thigh, pushing her backward. The friction as the seam of her jeans abraded the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex was delicious. She squeezed her inner muscles, intensifying the pressure, the pleasure.
“You like it quick and dirty?” When he was satisfied she’d continue the motion against his thigh on her own, he released her hip to cup her breast. Through the fabric of her shirt, she felt the heat of his palm. Unerringly, he found her nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger until it grew so hard it hurt. “Or slow and sensual?”
Both! And everything in between, she thought dizzily.
“Let’s start with quick and d-dirty,” she panted. “And then next time, we can do slow and s—”
He didn’t allow her to finish. He pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it behind his back. Her bra was apricot satin, and he took a moment to appreciate the contrast of the color against her pale skin before he reached between her breasts and flipped open the front closure. It joined her shirt on the floor a second later. And then her hands were pinned above her head again. The position lifted her breasts, her nipples pointing up at him, begging for the heat of his mouth.
He didn’t resist their silent plea.
Dipping his head, he caught one taut peak between his lips. Compared to the air inside the outbuilding, the heat of his mouth was scorching. The lick of his tongue was a flame of fire against her sensitive flesh. Her breath caught in her lungs when he flicked his tongue back and forth, her toes curling inside her shoes and her eyes rolling back in her head.
She thought his hair tickled her chin, but she couldn’t be sure. She thought he reached down to thumb open the button on her jeans, but she was too overcome with the erotic joy of his mouth on her nipple and his thigh between her legs to concentrate on anything else. Of course, when she felt the rough pads of his fingers slip between her swollen folds, she knew she hadn’t imagined either of those things.
“So wet,” he grumbled against her breast, rubbing his fingers back and forth. Pleasure twanged through her as she bathed him in her need. “So sweet. I have to taste.”
He released her wrists, and her arms fell uselessly to her sides. When he removed his thigh so he could pull her jeans and panties down over her hips, she was glad the door was at her back to support her, or else she would have slid into a puddle on the floor. The pleasure he pressed on her made her boneless. The promise of the pleasure to come made her quickly kick off her boots and step out of her jeans and panties, leaving her in nothing but her stocking feet. Ozzie impatiently pulled her socks off next, seeming to want her completely naked. And then his next words confirmed it.
“But before I taste,” he said, his voice guttural with desire, “I want to look.”
Samantha had stood in front of men in nothing but her birthday suit before. But none had ever been Ozzie. Ozzie…with his ability to really look, to really see. The urge to cover herself made the muscles in her arms clench. But she’d asked for this. Demanded it, actually. And he’d granted her request.
Fair is fair.
Flattening her hands against the door, she forced herself not to hide. Instead, she spread her feet a little wider, letting him see just how wet he’d made her, how swollen she was for him.
A strangled sound erupted from the back of his throat. He fell to his knees as if his legs could no longer support him.
Samantha had no illusions about her body. She had strong arms and a good butt, decent boobs and a stomach that was flat enough. But there was nary a thigh gap in sight. Nor were her legs as long as she’d like them to be. And her hips? Well, let’s just say there was no exercise on the planet she’d found to get rid of her saddlebags.
Still, when she dared to glance at Ozzie on his knees in front of her, she saw nothing but reverence in his eyes. He looked at her and saw something beautiful. And in that moment, she felt beautiful.
“I pictured you like this after I went to bed last night,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “I touched myself and thought about how beautiful you are. But my imagination didn’t do you justice.”