Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)(11)

I moved up slightly so I could look over his sleeping face. With the relaxation of slumber, his normally tight face was soft and blank. I lifted up, unable to help myself, touching my lips to his softly. Even if this was the only moment I got, I was going to make sure I made the most of it. My movement caused his body to tighten and his arms moved so I was positioned entirely on top of him, his hard-on pressing into me. Desire pooled in my stomach. My lips, which were positioned close-mouthed on his, were suddenly set on fire. His mouth moved with mine, moving past the tender peck I’d intended, to a full on kiss. It was a kiss that I’d been imagining, dreaming of, ever since he’d given me a taste a week ago. One that seemed to surpass every one of my expectations and go right up there with Leo and Kate as one of the best kisses in history.

He abruptly disengaged, and his face turned tight. His eyes were flaming with desire, but his jaw hardened and his neck pulsed with restraint.

“You’re hurt,” he clipped, his voice rough.

“I’m fine,” I protested, leaning forward. I’d have to be bleeding from a stab wound to not capitalize on the fact he had seemed to forget about the fact he wasn’t interested in me. I would regret it later when he finally dropped me, but I was all about instant gratification.

He held my head gently, but putting enough pressure so my lips couldn’t meet his.

“You’re testing every inch of my restraint right now, Mace. And I’ll tell you, it’s almost in f*ckin’ tatters after only tasting that mouth once in the year I’ve been dreaming about it,” he growled. “And it tastes a f*ck of a lot sweeter than I remember.” His eyes darkened. “I remember honey, baby.”

Every part of my body seemed to turn to jelly at his words, and my panties dampened at the sex in his tone and in his eyes. I didn’t even register the allusion to the fact he’d been holding himself back for a year, I just attacked.

This time his gentle hold wasn’t enough to stop my mouth from hitting his, and he seemed to pause for a split second before returning my furious kiss with an intensity that rivaled the one moments before.

He flipped me on my back, his hard body pressing into mine, almost drowning me in muscle. My legs went around his waist, needing friction, needing his body as close as humanly possible.

He yanked back from my mouth, his eyes clouded over. “You need to tell me right f*ckin’ now if we gotta stop, babe. ‘Cause after this moment, I ain’t gonna be able to,” he informed me tightly.

“Only thing I want you to stop doing is talking,” I ordered huskily, needing him inside me, like yesterday. Or more accurately a year ago.

He searched my face for a split second then his mouth went back for another brutal, beautiful assault. His hands running up and down my sides, moving to cup my breasts. I made a little sound in his mouth at the contact.

His body was gone from mine, I was about to protest when his hands went to my cami.

“Arms up,” he ordered.

I complied, watching him through my lashes. He let out a hiss when I unclasped my lacy bra once he’d thrown my cami aside. His reaction to my bare breasts made my already damp panties drenched with need. He pushed me back on the bed and his mouth fastened on my nipple.

I gasped at the feeling, running my hands over his smooth head. His hands moved to my shorts, undoing them quickly, and yanking them off my body, my panties going with them. His attention moved to my clit, I gasped, almost climaxing from the contact of his callused fingers.

“Fuckin’ drenched,” he bit out, eyes never leaving mine.

Hansen stood, and I watched as he divested himself of his jeans, revealing him in all of his magnificent glory. He reached to his bedside table, grabbing a condom and quickly sheathing himself.

The act of him doing that—of watching him while keeping his eyes firmly on me was hands down the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed.

Then he was on top of me, everything seemed to fall away, apart from his body on mine. His eyes keeping me captive. He gently ran his hand over the top of my forehead. “You good baby?” he asked in a tone that juxtaposed the furious need blazing in his eyes.

That moment was one that required brutal honesty. “I’m the best I’ve ever been in my entire life,” I whispered.

His body jolted slightly, his eyes flaring. Then, he was inside me. Filling me. Consuming me. Every stroke that built me up was also a stroke I treasured. The feeling of him inside me, his body pressing into mine. The fact that his eyes stared into me, with that that tenderness that I yearned for from the moment I laid eyes on him. If this were all we’d ever have, I’d cradle that memory until the end of my days. This wasn’t f*cking like it was with anyone in the club, this was something else. Something deeper.

He flipped us, so I was on top, straddling him. His hands went to my hips.

“Want to watch you ride me, baby,” he growled. His hand moved to cup my breast.

So I did. I rode him, not slow and gentle like it had been before. Fast and furious and chasing the climax I knew would shatter my world. The whole time, my eyes didn’t leave the face of the man I’d been in love with for a year.

It hit me. Like a ton of bricks, an explosion of fireworks. My entire body shuddered on top of him as I rode the waves of desire. I vaguely registered Hansen flipping us back over while I clutched onto his back, scratching his skin as he prolonged my ecstasy by slamming into me hard and brutal.