Full Throttle (Black Knights Inc. #7)(36)

“Abby,” he whispered again before leaving a trail of hungry, hasty kisses across her cheek and back to her ear. “Dios, Abby, you taste so good.” He sucked her sensitive lobe into his sinfully knowledgeable mouth.

She tasted good? She did? No, no. He was the one who should be on the menu of the finest restaurant. Because his breath was fresh and warm, and the sweat on his skin when she turned her head to gently sink her teeth into his wrist was sweet and delightful. He was the appetizer, entrée, and dessert all rolled into one wonderfully decadent male feast.

He moaned against her neck when she darted out her tongue, flicking at the pulse beating heavily in his wrist. The sound went all through her, making her nipples tighten, her toes curl, and her womb contract and ache anew. It was a wanton sound. A shameless sound. The sound a man makes when he’s mindless and in need of a woman.

She couldn’t believe it. Carlos…in need of her. Carlos…wanting her. She was surrounded by him, overpowered by him. His height. His breadth. His sheer masculinity. She reveled in the feel of the muscles in his shoulders, so large her hands couldn’t grip the entirety of them when she dug in her fingers to pull him closer, closer… He could never be too close.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed—breathed?—no more like panted when he opened his mouth over the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Then he sucked. Hard. And each pull of his lips had her stomach dipping and whirling and tingling as if she was on a roller coaster ride. Her center was an aching void that longed to be filled. Her entire body straining and struggling for release.

How had it all gotten out of hand so quickly? One minute she was poised to spill her guts despite the vow she’d made to her father to keep their terrible secret. One minute she was on the verge of telling Carlos everything, so he’d know exactly whom it was he was risking his life to save. But then the next minute? Wham! It was full-on, heart-melting, womb-thrumming foreplay. The kind of foreplay that led to wild, unbridled sex. Sex with a capital S and a triple X. The nasty kind. The naughty kind. The delicious kind.

With an animalistic growl, he deepened their kiss, pushed her hard against the trunk of the tree. Then he took everything up a notch by shoving his thigh between her legs. He moved his hands from her face to her hips, grinding her sex and throbbing clit against the rough fabric of her skirt-turned-shorts.

Her head caught on fire, or at least it felt like it did. And heat exploded through her entire body like the whoosh of flames suddenly fueled by kerosene. For a second, she thought she came. She’d never experienced pleasure this painfully intense before. It was strangely orgasmic. Yet…it wasn’t.

No. She hadn’t come. If she had, her body wouldn’t still be thrumming, aching, pulsing.

“Kiss me, Carlos.” She needed to feel his mouth on hers again. Needed to feed off his desire as she grew hotter, hungrier with every ticking second.

“Show me your tongue,” he demanded, and she obliged by opening her mouth. Just a little bit. Just enough for him to see her tongue peeking from between her lips.

A muscle twitched in his jaw, his eyes dark and hot as the jungle at midnight when he focused on her offering. “Now lick your lips,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating all around her.

She never knew it about herself, but she liked it when he went all bossy and demanding. She imagined him forcing her to her knees and telling her to suck and stroke him and—

Holy Moses!

Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t the submissive sort, was she? At least, she’d never been before. But then neither had she been with Carlos before. To be that open, that trusting, she had to have the ultimate faith in her partner.

She’d never had faith in anyone like the faith she had in Carlos…

Doing as he instructed, she slowly ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat before ducking his head and claiming her mouth. He sucked on her tongue, doing things with his teeth that made the fire in her blood roar anew. And he continued to grind her sex against his thigh, forcefully but not ungently.

She wanted more. Just a little more…

Bending her knees, she rubbed herself against him. She was getting the fabric on her skirt-turned-shorts wet, and maybe his cargo pants, too. She didn’t care.

She needed release. She needed it so badly.

“Sí, mi vida,” he growled against her lips. “Ride me.”

Dear. God! She’d never heard anything so sexy. It was almost enough. Almost enough…

*

Steady was ready to howl for mercy. He was totally dunzo, sunk, lost.

Obliterated by the hungry dart of her tongue into his mouth. Annihilated by the feel of her soft, hot sex grinding against his thigh. Completely consumed by Abby, by all of her wonderfully surprising, wonderfully wanton passion. And when her little fingers crept under his tank top, grazing his quivering stomach, searching higher and higher until she skimmed over his twitching pectoral muscles, he figured she’d gone and wrecked his ever-loving mind, too.

His nipples tightened beneath her questing fingers, and he felt her hesitate at the change, her breath sawing from her mouth into his. Then she pinched the buds and he thought his balls would explode. They ached so badly it was a wonder he didn’t sink to his knees on the ground, cupping himself.

Somehow, someway this had gotten completely out of hand.

It was supposed to be a kiss. One little kiss. After all, they were in the middle of a jungle filled with wild animals, being sought by a group of armed thugs, and a good number of miles away from the safety of the Thai border. Yet, instead of doing the smart thing and covering those miles as quickly as they could, they were ten seconds away from getting busy against the trunk of a tree.