Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(30)

Fuck.

He fisted his hand in her shirt, yanked her to him and claimed her mouth, forcing her lips apart with his own and slicking his tongue inside. He moaned into her mouth, palming the back of her head to hold her immobile and deepening the kiss. Sweet baby Jesus, she tasted good. Honey sweet and dangerously addictive. A teaser course guaranteed to wind him up and amp his thirst until he finagled his mouth between her thighs.

She jerked his T-shirt up and out of the way so her hands had unhindered room to work.

And work they did. Smoothing along his skin in confident, tempting strokes. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and went for it, giving as good as she got along the way. A total fucking turn-on for a man like him, but also a bullet train to getting him off.

He captured her hands, pinned them behind her and backed her toward the wall.

She wiggled and tried to yank free of his grip, groaning against his mouth, “Let me touch you.”

Her shoulders met wall and he ground his pelvis against hers. “Later.” He nipped her chin and licked and sucked his way down the column of her neck.

“Not later.” Breathy and edgy as though she wanted to fight but couldn’t quite muster the strength. She tilted her neck to give him better room to work. “Now.”

“You’ll get your turn.” He gave into one of many impulses that had ridden him all night, cupped one breast and squeezed. “But I’m a greedy bastard so I’m taking mine first.”

Her head dropped back against the wall and her back bowed. “Knox.” A plea. And damned if his name slipping past her lips like that didn’t turn his dick from humdrum concrete to the fucking Rock of Gibraltar. Man, he was so screwed. She wasn’t even naked yet and he was primed to blow.

He rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb, and a delicate tremor moved through her. Like the carnal contact had jump-started a dormant passion. If she was this responsive with this many layers of clothes between them, he couldn’t wait to get his tongue on her clit. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her hips rocked against his, each undulation matching the back-and-forth tug he gave the hard bud between his fingers.

The words that sat on his tongue stung, but not saying them wasn’t an option. Taking this step was already fifty kinds of stupid. No way was he not giving her one last out. “You get what this is?”

“Sex.” Her voice was the living embodiment of the word she’d spoken, the tail end of it humming with a pleasure soaked hiss. “Good, hard, sweaty sex.”

Right. Fucking. Answer.

He jerked her away from the wall, yanked her T-shirt up and over her head and crushed her against him, devouring her mouth as he backed her toward the bed. One quick pinch of his fingers and her bra snicked open. He’d barely curled his fingers around the silky black straps to pull them free, when her legs hit the edge of the bed and she tumbled onto the bloodred comforter.

Christ, what a sight. All damned night, she’d drawn men’s attention. Hell, he’d had a hard time keeping his own dick from saluting every time she’d so much as looked at him. But seeing her now, her creamy skin and white-blonde hair against those decadent sheets and the way her tits jiggled on impact, it’d take five lifetimes before he got that image out of his head.

She pushed herself up on her elbows and cocked one knee as though she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the feature presentation she’d found herself in. “You’re staring.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m staring.” He toed off his boots, not daring to take his eyes off her for fear she’d bolt. “Been thinking about seeing you exactly where you are now for the last week. You think I’m not gonna pause and pay homage, you’re out of your mind.”

The comment earned him a naughty smile and damned if she didn’t push her shoulders back with a lot more confidence.

Done shucking his socks, he tugged his T off and popped the buttons on his fly, giving his straining cock some much needed breathing room. “You like that? Watching me look at you?”

Her gaze dropped to his torso then farther to where his dick stretched tall and proud behind his black briefs. “Yes, but I think I like looking at you more.”

He chuckled and put a knee to the bed. “The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.” He worked the button/zipper combo on her jeans and tugged them down her hips. “Now, ass up, because I’m gonna get a full frontal before I dive in and see if your pussy tastes as good as your mouth.”

She lifted for him, but she did it on a low moan, squeezing her legs together like he’d already got his face between her thighs.

The second the denim cleared her bubblegum-pink painted toes, he was up on the bed, knees anchored on either side of her and hands skimming up her slender hips then in to cup her breasts. Fitting for her ballerina-lithe body, they barely filled his palms, but were one hundred percent Grade-A perfect with watermelon pink tips to match her lips.

Her fingertips danced across his pecs, then lower to his abs.

“Oh no, you don’t.” He caught her at both wrists and guided them to her chest. “You want to play with something, you play with these.”

She pouted and opened her mouth.

“You don’t like me bossy in the office,” he said before she could argue, “you’re gonna hate me in the bedroom. Now, get your hands engaged and show me how you play with your tits when you’ve got that box of toys out from under your bed.”