Need You Now (1001 Dark Nights)(21)

His words stroke through me as if they are his fingers or his tongue, and there is no question. This man possesses that certain something that calls to the woman in me. That something I didn’t even know existed until here and now.

“No,” he assures me, his fingers tightening in my hair, tugging just enough to send a dart of heat straight to my sex. “You’re not.” He kisses me again, and he tastes like passion, like raw sexuality, and my fingers somehow find their way to the springy, dark hair on his broad, hard chest, and there is nothing in that moment but him. The heat of his body, the hardness of his chest. The way his hands are all over me, everywhere, anywhere.

Somehow, I end up against a wall, the rough brick scraping my shoulders, but I don’t care. I just want Jensen. I want him in a way I don’t remember wanting ever before. I simply want to be lost here, in the deep shadows of the night, with him kissing me and touching me, his big, hard body covering mine. And I am lost, fading into the sensations, the passion, and somehow, my shirt is gone. His shirt is gone. His hands have replaced my bra, cupping my breasts, and there is no question about where this is going. It’s all the way, everywhere, anywhere.

I moan as his head dips low, lips, teeth, and tongue teasing a path down my neck and collarbone until he finds my nipple. The fingers of one of my hands slide into his hair, my other hand pressing against his zipper to stroke the hard ridge of his erection. There is no shyness in me, no holding back. Jensen doesn’t feel like the stranger he had last night. He doesn’t feel like a mistake.

“Jensen,” I whisper, planning to plea for all of him, here, now, but he swallows my words, his tongue, his talented, wicked tongue, delving into my mouth, and this kiss is darker than before, deeper. This is a claiming and there is nothing sweet or gentle about it. And I don’t want gentle. I want wild, intense, wildly hot. I want the kind of escape I never dare allow myself.

His hands go to my face, and he tears his mouth from mine, nipping at my bottom lip. “Tonight, after the one orgasm comes another orgasm. And another.” He sinks to one knee and presses fingers to my shorts, stroking the seam, teasing me with what will come next. My head settles against the bricks behind me, and I let him unzip my shorts, tugging them down my hips.

“Step,” he commands, and I do as ordered, more than eager to rid myself and us of the remaining barriers. His lips touch my belly, his finger caressing a line over the lace trim of my panties where they rest on my belly. My lashes flutter and then lift abruptly as voices sound nearby—too close—but Jensen ignores them, yanking away my panties, forcing me to bite my lip to keep silent. His hands settle at my hips and the voices continue, a man and a woman talking about something I can’t even try to process as Jensen’s lips touch my belly.

A shiver of pure pleasure runs through me, my desire for him overcoming all else, though some logical part of me still fears being caught out here. The same part that knows I am naked on public property, probably breaking the law, but somehow, when his tongue delves into my belly button, my thighs are instantly slick, my sex clenches in need, and everything but me, him, and the crash of ocean waves fades.

And he leaves me no time to allow otherwise, his lips trailing downward, a seductively slow journey, his newly formed whiskers rasping erotically on my delicate skin. I want him everywhere. I want him inside me, but my fantasy of erotic bliss bursts when the sound of female laughter blends with the sound of wind and waves.

My body tenses, every muscle tight. “Easy, baby,” Jensen warns softly, his hand flattening on my belly. “No one can see us. The wind is carrying the voices.”

“You’re sure?” I whisper the question, scanning the darkness for prying eyes.

“Positive.”

I inhale and let it out, nodding my acceptance, but the woman laughs softly and murmurs something, and she sounds only a few feet away. My heart is drumming against my ribcage. Go away, I silently will the strangers. Please. Go Away. But they don’t listen, and I don’t want to think about them or anything but Jensen and how his fingers are dipping inside me, stroking me, teasing me. The man’s voice is louder now, breaking through the crashing waves, but Jensen’s actions overcome my nerves. His tongue, oh yes, his amazing tongue, just barely tickles my clit, a whispered touch that promises more and has me ready to scream with the frustration of not having it now. I try to remain silent, I try so very hard, but Jensen laps at my clit and a deep, drawn-out whimper escapes my lips.

He reacts instantly, pushing to his feet, his mouth covering mine, his fingers still inside me, stretching me, his thumb playing on my clit. It all comes together as sensory overload and the soft, sweet promise of orgasm rises fast and hard. For just a moment, Jensen’s mouth leaves mine and I pant with the wicked ache of being so close to bliss but not there yet. Instantly, he is kissing me again, swallowing the sounds, and one more lick of his tongue and my sex spasms, clenching his fingers. Sensations rock me, shaking my body, blanking my mind, until I shudder to a final completion, my muscles going weak with the aftermath.

“Next time you come, I’ll be inside you,” Jensen promises and the voices fade away, slipping out of my consciousness while our passion explodes.

Suddenly, we are as wild as when I’d first come over that fence, kissing and touching, moaning, and there is the battle with his pants, followed by the tear of a condom wrapper that seems eternal. “Hurry,” I murmur, and he responds, pressing the thick pulse of his erection between my thighs as he cups my backside and he lifts me.