Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(55)

And then he was there, pressing her back into the mattress, covering her with his long, hard body, kissing her as feverishly as she kissed him, stroking her as hungrily as she stroked him, raking his teeth and tongue across her body when she wasn’t doing the same thing to him.

And just when she was about to throw a leg over his hips, when she was about to impale herself on all that hot, vibrant flesh she held in her hands, a seed of sanity bloomed inside her head.

She almost kept her mouth shut. After all, the question she needed to ask was the same question that’d made him come to his senses four years ago. The same question that had had everything coming to a screeching halt in the bathroom of the Clover Bar and Grill.

Still, the good Lord knew she couldn’t take any chances…

“You have a condom, right?” she panted, still stroking him. Running her thumb over his soft tip and spreading the silkiness she found there around his plump, smooth head.

He exhaled hard. “Damn, I don’t know. They may be in the bag I left at your house.”

For a brief instant, she considered throwing caution to the wind, especially when he did something crazy with his tongue.

“I guess,” she gasped and licked her lips, her body on fire, “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

“Hold that thought,” he said, pushing from the bed only to retrieve his jeans from the floor and scrounge through the pockets. His sudden absence, and the cool rush of hotel room air that blew over her skin, was almost shocking.

She had to stifle the urge to launch herself off the bed, tackle him to the floor, and ride him until her eyes crossed.

Instead, she pressed up on her elbows. “What are you doing?” she asked, letting her avid gaze roam over his splendid male body, her eyes alighting on his tattoo, so vibrant and powerful-looking, spread across his beautifully broad back…

“Ah, ha!” He shouted triumphantly as he held up the two foil packages he’d pulled from his wallet. “Always be prepared. I told you I was a Boy Scout.”

***

Shell crooked a finger at him, a living, breathing goddess, beckoning him back to bed.

“Come here,” she said and, word up, he didn’t need to be told twice.

Okay, and it was official. He was the weakest-willed man on the entire planet, because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he shouldn’t be doing this.

But she was naked.

In his bed.

And he loved her…

So despite the myriad reasons why he should put the brakes on this little endeavor, he found himself stalking toward the bed, intent on making love to her.

And it was going to be love. He’d make damn sure of that.

She didn’t believe the words when he gave them to her, so he’d show her with his hands and tongue and body just how much he cherished her, worshipped her.

How much he loved her.

He crawled up the bed, up her body, letting his eyes drift from sweetly painted toes to softly turned calves. Farther to silky thighs and amazingly curvaceous hips.

She had the cutest belly button. So little and perfectly round. It looked like it hadn’t decided whether it wanted to be an outie or an innie, so it’d become both. He couldn’t resist it. When he kissed it delicately, she giggled softly, spearing her fingers into his hair. He took that as his cue to continue his journey northward.

Of course when his gaze landed on her breasts, he had to stop again because…yo…they were perfect. Large and round, with dark, half-dollar-sized nipples. Nipples begging for his kiss.

He didn’t disappoint.

And when he lapped one with his tongue, she sighed. The sound went all through him, turning him on and revving him up.

He sucked her breast gently, loving the way she moaned and arched into him, loving the way his hands were filled to overflowing with her.

Shell wasn’t one of those delicate women who’d snap in two if he held her too tightly. She was an armful. A warm, soft, wonderful armful that he wasn’t afraid to love.

In a word: perfection.

He figured he could continue to make love to her breasts until eternity, knead their delicate lushness and kiss their hard tips until he went toes up from pleasure, but he remembered how much she loved to have her throat kissed. How it made her tilt her head just so…

He made his way up her soft neck, back to her sweet ear, letting his teeth and tongue graze against soft, fragrant skin and reveling in the way she lifted her chin, giving him all the access he could ever desire, giving in to him in a way he’d only dreamed possible.

He wanted to see her face. That beautiful face, those gorgeous eyes, and those amazing lips…

When he pulled back to look down at her, his heart stopped.

Holy, holy hell. She was something all right. Eyes, heavy with passion. Cheeks, bright with a warm blush. Lips, slick and pink and swollen…just like the flesh between her legs would be.

He couldn’t stand it a second longer. He reached down and palmed her gently before inserting one and then a second finger inside her.

She was hot. Wet. A woman ripe with desire. Every dream he’d ever dared to dream. Every hot fantasy he’d conjured up in the middle of the night.

“Make love to me,” she whispered, reaching up to nibble at his jaw, and his dick pulsed so hard he had to grit his teeth or come on the spot.

Two years without a woman was wreaking havoc on his control, which had never proved to be very good with Shell anyway.