Rowdy (Marked Men #5)(36)
I wrapped my fingers around each of his tattooed wrists and gazed up at him. I licked my bottom lip and he groaned.
“I kind of like it.”
“Shit.” It wasn’t really a word, more just an exhalation of sound, and then his mouth was on mine and nothing else mattered anymore. There was nothing more than the way he made me feel and the way that all the wildness and restlessness that always hounded me seemed to fade away under his lips and at his touch.
He kissed me hard. He kissed me long. He kissed me breathless and then he pulled back and did it again from another angle. The boy was good with his mouth, so good that I didn’t notice the fact that his hands had found their way to the hem of my dress and the fabric was slowly being inched up the outside of my legs. His tongue twisted around mine, his teeth nipped at the tip of it, and I gasped loudly in the quiet when his big hands closed over either side of my na**d backside. Maybe I had been planning for it all along, but putting anything on under my dress after my shower had seemed like a useless step when I knew I would be taking it off for him at some point.
“Nice.” There was nothing but appreciation in his tone and his breathing kicked up a notch as his bare chest moved against mine.
He released one side of my ass and ran his hand up my spine so that he could undo the long zipper that held the cute frock closed. I moved my hair out of the way for him, and between one sigh and the next I was na**d in front of him and he was obviously enjoying my curved form. He swore again and reached out a fingertip to touch one of the small silver hoops that decorated both of my ni**les. They capped the dusky peaks and glittered with a ruby jewel that matched the one above my lip.
He let go of my rear end completely and used his thumbs to trace across the big lotus flower that marked one side of my hipbone and the arching, sprawling cherry blossom that decorated the other. They were both delicately done and popped brightly against my dark skin.
“Beauty against all odds and the fragility of life.” His voice was hushed as he bent down and dropped a kiss on my clavicle.
“I guess that’s one advantage of getting na**d with a tattoo artist—it cuts down on the show-and-tell.”
He laughed a little and I felt it all the way to my core because he was bending me over one of his arms that he had snaked behind my back and using my new arched position to circle each pierced nipple with his tongue. I was pretty sure nothing in my entire life had ever felt that awesome. Each peak puckered and pulled at the attention, and when he used his teeth and sucked the little metal ring into his mouth, it made them hot and wet when they landed back against my skin. I really thought I was going to die from sensation overload.
I was clutching at his shoulders to try and stay somewhat grounded and not totally get lost in the pleasure when he moved a single step closer and I lost my balance and toppled over onto my back, hitting the mattress with a little bounce. He was looming over me and the smile on his face couldn’t be called anything but wicked.
He kissed my breastbone right between the full swell of each breast and drew a moist line all the way down the center of my body with his tongue, stopping to dip it in my navel and to put biting little kisses on each of my tattoos that framed the very exposed, very sensitive part of my body he was obviously heading toward.
“Rowdy . . .” It was part question, part demand because I was ready for him. I felt like I had been waiting for this, for him to put his hands on me, for him to put his mouth on me forever, even though it had only been a handful of weeks.
He blew out a breath that made my already damp folds quiver in need and I felt him chuckle against the soft skin of my stomach.
“I’ve heard you say my name in a lot of ways, Salem. Gotta say hearing you say it in bed when I’m about to eat you up is probably my favorite to date.”
I was going to tell him to go to hell but lost the ability to think, to speak, when without any warning he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and pulled me to his face. It was too much. Too intimate. Too invasive and intense. It was the best thing ever. The boy really was beyond good with his mouth.
He ran his tongue the entire length of my opening. He put my legs over his shoulders and gripped my ass in hard hands as he explored every inch of my quaking and spasming inside with his mouth. I squirmed on the bed, the pleasure almost too much to handle as he used the edge of his teeth on my clit. Sensation raced along every nerve ending I had and I couldn’t breathe past everything I was feeling.
I got a handful of his hair to keep me tethered in the moment and must have given it a harder yank than I intended because he hissed out a breath that I felt on every damp surface of skin I had between my legs. He muttered something dark and sexy that I couldn’t make out and snaked one of his hands from my rear to the front, and just as he trapped that little tiny bud of desire between his teeth and sucked—hard—he maneuvered his very talented digits in to replace his stroking and seeking tongue and I lost my mind.
The double stimulation, the twist and twirl of his strong fingers combined with the relentless suction of his hot mouth, was too much to take. There was no buildup, no steady climb to a blissful orgasm. No, instead it all barreled at me in a blinding rush that swept me away on a wave of overwhelming pleasure and release. It made him chuckle again, which had ripples of undiluted gratification chasing the sound along all the sensitive flesh he was still manipulating and playing with.
I had never had an orgasm that actually made me hurt before. It hurt so good that I felt it in every cell, in every breath, in every blink as I peeled my eyes open and tried to remember where I was, who I was, and who I was with.