Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(39)

Her fingers tangle into my hair, pulling me to her. She brokenly whispers, "Please, White," and it’s like music to my ears. It seems like I've been chasing her forever. Crazy, but still it feels true. Today, that ends.

"You wear too many f*cking clothes, Buttercup."

"I agree," she mutters, pushing my shirt up my stomach. I break away to help her drag it over my head. Once it’s off, I let it fall to the floor. My hands go to her hips, intent on nothing more than pushing her pants to the floor and having her naked. Kayla has other plans, though, as she dives to my chest, her nails digging into my flesh, her teeth holding my nipple prisoner as her tongue flicks it teasingly. She’s wild. She's not a kitten; she's a f*cking wild tiger. Up until this moment, I thought she was shy. Now, I'm pretty sure she's just been scared. Get her out of her mind so she’s not worrying if she's doing things right, and she's every man's dream. My dream.

As good as this feels, I can't let it go on. I forcibly pull her hands away and pin them against the wall above her head. Kayla immediately pushes against my hold, twisting her entire body to try and break free.

"Behave," I bark.

"Let me go," she whines.

"Don't move your damn hands until I get you out of these clothes."

"Fine," she huffs. I immediately go to her hips, my fingers grabbing the waistband of her sweats.

"Holy Hell, Buttercup, you could fit three of you in these damn things."

She doesn't respond unless you count the grunt she lets out. She also doesn't mind me, because her hands have found their way to my jeans. The sound of my zipper echoes in my ears as I push her sweats down. They're so loose that they fall to the floor without stopping. I feel like a kid in a candy store when I realize she's not wearing underwear. I definitely hear a mental, "Yes," echoing in my head. That could be because around the same time, her hand wraps around my dick. She squeezes it so hard, my toes f*cking curl against the hard leather of my shoes, which reminds me that I need to take them off. I'm not f*cking my woman in my socks and shoes like some kid getting his rocks off for the first time. I kick them off quickly and somehow even manage to push my pants down and step out of everything. I stumble a few times and come close to falling, but manage to pull it together. All I need is to end up on the floor, tangled in my own clothes. I'm sure that would just impress Kayla immensely.

Thought processes stop when she strokes my cock. The hold is still so f*cking tight I want to scream in pleasure. She strokes from the root all the way to the tip, and I stare at her face the entire time. She watches every second of it, alive with need and pleasure. Just that look on her face, with her hand on my cock, would be enough to make me come. I feel my balls harden with pressure and I feel the heat move down my spine. I know as sure as my next breath that this is the one woman who could completely unman me. But that's not the way this is going down. Not by a long shot.





CHAPTER 28


KAYLA




My head is spinning. How I got here, I don't know. I just know that now I don't want it to end. I slide my hand along White's cock. The skin so hot to my touch, I think it's burning me, only the burn is deep inside, marking me in ways you can't see. Slowly, I stroke him, watching each movement. I watch as each swollen vein disappears beneath my hand only to vibrate against it. It's beautiful, really. The male body, I mean. It's completely beautiful and designed flawlessly, but White's body is like nothing I have ever seen before. Anyone else pales in comparison, or at least it does for me. I love him. I always have, but the truth is, I love him more every minute I spend with him.

I'm so involved with stroking him that I lose myself in it, which is my undoing, because all at once I find myself with my hands once again pinned above my head. I cry out in protest, already missing the feel of him and the way he heated my hand. I drag my eyes to him and the blue color in his eyes stop my breath.

"You're a bad girl, Kayla. I told you to keep your hands here."

You're a bad girl, Kayla. Cue the ovaries standing up at attention and starting to hit boiling point. Has anyone ever called me bad? Hell, no. Then again, I've never wanted to be bad for anyone. In honesty, I don't think I've ever truly wanted anyone. It's always been White.

I push against his hold, halfheartedly attempting to get free, wanting to touch him again. I stop quickly though when White pushes his body against mine. Hot, soft, flesh, beautifully naked, and pressing against each other. I've never felt beautiful or particularly erotic. Right now, I feel like a goddess. I thrust my body into him, or at least try. His hold and the way he has me restrained against the wall makes it pretty much impossible.

"I need to touch you," I whisper. It's just a whisper, a breathless whisper, because I'm busy watching as his large hand descends against my body, his fingers stretching out so that they cover the entire valley between my breasts with the tips stroking against the plump curve of them. His hand is darker than my skin, his skin calloused against my smooth flesh. The differences are night and day and yet completely right.

"That can't happen because the minute you touch me, this is going to be over," he groans. The side of his face is brushing against mine, his words deep and resonating, sending electric shocks up my spine. "You don't get to touch me, honey. Not until I show you exactly who is in charge of your body."