Rowdy (Marked Men #5)(42)
“You picked the gypsy.”
She looked down at herself then back up at me. “She’s my favorite.”
I chuckled a little and rubbed the back of my neck. “She’s you.”
Her mouth quirked up in a grin and she took a few steps toward me. When she was within touching distance she put her hand in the center of my chest where my heart was beating out a tattoo that was totally foreign to me.
“I know.” She had to lift herself up on her toes so that she could kiss me on the underside of my jaw. “That’s why she’s my favorite. It makes me all gooey and squishy on the inside that that’s how you see me.”
I put my hands on her waist as she trailed kisses along the edge of my jaw and worked her way to my earlobe. I bit back a groan when her teeth closed over it.
“You’re beautiful. You have a darkness and a wildness in you. You look like a modern-day gypsy.”
“You make the darkness and the wildness calm down.” She had her hands under the hem of my T-shirt at my lower back and was tugging it upward. I caught the back of my collar in one hand and ripped it off over my head and tossed it in the general direction of the couch.
“Yeah?”
She ran her hands along the ridges of my ribs and then up and down my side where my mom’s name was. The reminder of what happened when I loved someone wholly and how hard the lonely was when that love went away was almost enough to have me pulling back, but her lips landed right in the center of my chest just as her hands found their way to the front of my pants. She made short work of my belt buckle, and between her determined fingers and the wet tip of her tongue tracing random designs on my skin, desire and want kicked fear’s ass to the curb.
“Yeah. You sort of feel like where I always wanted to be.”
Well, f**k me. Didn’t that put trying to keep a safe distance and not letting my heart get involved seem damn near impossible?
I threaded my fingers through her soft hair and held her head in my hands as she took a few steps forward and backed me up so that I was leaning my ass on the back of the couch. Her eyes gleamed up at me as she reached around my waist and started to tug my pants off. I kissed her because I had to. I kissed her because I wanted to. I kissed her because kissing her was starting to make me feel like I had found something I wasn’t really aware I had been looking for. Mostly I kissed her because every time she kissed me back I felt her settling a piece of herself even more deeply inside of me. I leaned forward a little to give her some clearance when she put her fingernails in my ass cheeks to get me to move, and grinned when she sucked in a surprised breath when she encountered nothing but na**d skin underneath the denim. She wasn’t the only one that knew how to dress, or underdress, for an occasion.
She used her index finger to trace a sensitive pattern between the piercings that decorated the head of my exposed c**k and told me in a quiet voice, “You always made me really happy, Rowdy. I’m sort of infatuated with all the different ways you make me happy now that we’re all grown up.”
Between the words and her touch there was no stopping my dick from twitching in her hand or the tiny bead of excitement that leaked out of the tip. She caught it with the pad of her thumb and looked up at me with a grin. I was going to ask her what she was smiling about when she suddenly dropped down on her knees in front of me and had the slick head between her red lips. If there was ever a sight that was going to push me into an orgasm with very little effort on her part, it was that. Her pretty mouth, with that glittery ruby above it, open wide, was sucking me in as I gritted my teeth and exhaled hard through my nose as pleasure raked its claws up and down my back in a ruthless way.
“Salem . . .” Her name was a guttural sound as my fingers clamped tighter into her hair. She didn’t respond, obviously, but she did use one of her hands to wrap around the base of my straining erection to squeeze and rub in time with the bobbing motion of her head. It all felt like a wet fire and the best place my dick had ever been.
She was twirling her quick little tongue around and around all the metal that lived in the head of my dick. She was sucking and tracing the throbbing veins that ran underneath the shaft. She was twisting her hand at the base in way that was making my eyes roll back in my head and there was no way I was going to hold out much longer under her talented and intent manipulation.
I tugged on her hair, the red pieces somehow managed to tangle all around my fingers, and I told her in a voice that sounded like it was coated in whiskey and cigarette smoke, “If you want me to be any use to you anytime in the next twenty minutes, you better let up.”
She just laughed and I felt it everywhere. My dick twitched hard in her hands and in her mouth as I leaned more of my weight on the back of the couch because I wasn’t entirely certain my legs were going to be able to hold me up any longer. I said her name again—this time in warning, but instead of pulling back or letting up, she snuck a hand between my braced thighs and gave my already overstimulated balls a little squeeze. It was too much.
My fingers clamped down on the sides of her head, I let out a surprised shout and let the pleasure and sensation she had whipped up inside of me go. I was panting and most definitely weak kneed when she finally pulled back. She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss right on the center of the sea beast that covered my abs in angry ink. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to soothe more than one monster with the sweet gesture, but one way or the other she succeeded.