Brave Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #3)(24)

As though I was experiencing it all over again, I could close my eyes and remember with perfect clarity every kiss, every touch, every word that transpired between Tag and me last night. He was right—I’ll never look at those grapes the same way again.

Thankfully, the tour is over. I quickly excused myself to shower before dinner and took a moment to search the house for Tag. Again, he was nowhere to be found. Not even Stella, resting in her rooms at the caretaker’s cabin, knew where he might be.

I stare at the bed as I strip off my clothes. My skin is sensitive. Tender, almost. And the ache that I’ve carried since the fields deepens to a need that throbs and pulses all the way through me. I moan softly at the pleasure/pain of thinking about Tag, of his hands and his mouth on me.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I don’t bother with gathering clothes. I just head for the bathroom, hoping that a cool shower might ease my discomfort.

I turn on the spray and step in immediately, gasping at the shock of the cold water on my heated skin. I had an allergic reaction to antibiotics once when I was a little girl and this is what my skin felt like—as though even the air was too much stimulation. Only this, this is centered around my core. Every drop of water, every run of liquid down my body causes a reactive squeeze between my legs, a plea for release.

I grab the soap and roll it in my hands, determined to ease the discomfort any way that I can. I can’t go through the evening this way. I’ll just have to take care of things myself and hope that fixes me.

I barely hear the soft click of the shower door open and close. It isn’t until I feel Tag’s hands at my heavy breasts that I cry out. I’m surprised, yes, but the feel of him touching me, when I need it so, so badly, is enough to reduce me to a writhing mess in his arms.

He is pressed snugly to my back, his face tucked into the curve of my neck and his arms wrapped around me from behind. He rubs and tweaks and teases my nipples until I’m grinding my butt into the unforgiving granite of his erection.

“You missed me today, didn’t you?” he whispers, nipping at my earlobe with his teeth. Even that seemingly innocuous action sends a bolt of electricity shooting to my sex. “Did you think about me when you rode through the fields? Did you ache from having me inside you so much last night?”

I nod, my mouth hanging open as I take in gulps of air and try not to bring the house down with all the sounds that are bubbling up in my chest.

One of Tag’s hands slides down my wet stomach, pushing between my folds to slip a finger into me. “Were you thinking about having me here? About having my cock in you, stretching you tight?”

He thrusts his finger deep inside me, the pad of his thumb rubbing my clit with the action. Reflexively, my body ripples around him. My knees nearly buckle, I’m so close to orgasm.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he murmurs, crooking his finger inside me and slowly dragging it out. “I think I have just the thing for you.”

I don’t ask what he means. Honestly, I don’t care as long as he doesn’t stop touching me. Today has been torture without him, the memories of his touch enough to drive me mad with desire. I’ve never needed someone’s touch this way. But I need Tag. I need to feel him inside me. I need to feel him wrapped around me. I just need Tag.

Gently, Tag turns me to face him. He bends down in front of me and hooks his arms through and around the backs of my thighs. I gasp when he pulls me off my feet. I feel like I’m going to fall backward; I wasn’t prepared for him to pick me up. But I don’t fall. Tag turns as he stands and presses my back into the cool shower wall, pinning me there with my legs wrapped around his head.

I don’t have time to question what he’s doing, because the moment I feel his tongue spear into my crease and circle my clit, my climax rolls through me like thunder. All I can do is hold on, my fingers fisting rhythmically in Tag’s silky black hair. He works his mouth over me, his tongue, his teeth, prolonging my orgasm until I’m breathless and the room is spinning every time I open my eyes.

Before the spasms have subsided, Tag pulls my wet back down the wet wall, readjusting me in his grip until my legs are wrapped around his waist and his face is mere inches from mine.

“I hope you saved some for me,” he says softly just before he takes my mouth and slams his cock into me.

He swallows the loud moan that escapes my throat upon his penetration. Never has anything felt so good as Tag buried so deeply inside me. There is only a flash of discomfort as I still stretch to accommodate him, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, leaving only intense pleasure behind.

My body wrings his length with his every thrust, and with every thrust he triggers more wringing. It’s an endless cycle of orgasmic delight that ends with Tag’s desperate whispers in my ear, whispers that promise he’s going to come and that he’s thought all day about coming inside me again.

His words thrill me. The idea that he wants to pour himself into me this way, the idea that I hold a piece of him deep inside my body is so intimate, so erotic I wonder if I’ll be able to think of anything else for the rest of the night.

When Tag finally releases me and lets my legs slowly straighten, he cups my cheek in his big palm and kisses the corner of my mouth.

“All through dinner, I want you to think about me, about how my warm come is still way up inside you. And I,” he says, tracing my upper lip with the tip of his tongue, “I will be thinking about this shower, about how you came on my face with your back pressed to the wall.”