Make Me Forget (Make Me, #1)(20)

“That’s right. Put your mouth on me,” he whispered darkly from above her.

She encircled his waist with her arms and licked him again.

“Come here,” he said, and he sounded almost angry he was so tense. So primed. His hands cupped her chin from below, and he was lifting her for his consumption. His mouth covered hers, and she felt that rush of heat she’d felt earlier from his kiss. He must have felt that spike of electrical excitement, too, because his cock jumped between them.

He held her in place while his tongue pierced and stroked and discovered her. He drank from her with a fierce focus. Harper moaned shakily as she reciprocated, overwhelmed with flooding lust. She shivered and pressed closer to his heat. How could a man possibly taste so good?

“God, you taste good,” he muttered against her upturned mouth a moment later, and she wondered dazedly if he’d read her mind. He plucked at her lips. “I’m going to taste you everywhere.” Another shiver tore through her at his grim promise. One of his hands coasted down her spine, amplifying her quaking. “But right now, you’re cold. We should warm you up.”

“I’m not cold,” she insisted, craning her neck to pluck at his firm mouth with her lips. How could she possibly be cold, standing next to him?

“Yes, you are,” he growled, because she’d just gently scraped at his succulent lower lip with her teeth. He accepted her challenge, dipping his head and piercing her mouth again with his tongue. His kiss was firm. Forceful. Addictive. Their tongues tangled, and another shudder of purest arousal went through her. He broke their kiss and began to lift her shirt.

“I’m getting you wet. It’s chilly out. Let’s get under the shower. It’s nice and hot.”

He drew her long-sleeved cotton shirt over her head and tossed it to a dry part of the stone terrace.

“But will anyone see—”

“No,” he cut her off. She looked up at his absolute answer. His face was shadowed as he looked down at her. His hands were at her back. Her bra snapped open. He stepped away from her slightly. His erection continued to jut forward, only the mushroom-shaped, fat cockhead pressing into her belly. With her shirt off, she could feel him more intimately, sense the soft skin stretched so tightly against the stony flesh beneath. His cockhead was the size of a small, firm plum. The place on her skin where it rested seemed to burn.

“No one is going to see you but me,” he said as he drew the bra off her shoulders. He threw it in the direction of her shirt. “No one is going to interfere.”

No one would dare.

He didn’t say it, but she heard those words, anyway. His authority was absolute. His focus on her was total. His gaze never left her face. She stared up at him, enraptured as his big, warm hands cupped her breasts from below. His thumbs whisked over her nipples, tightening them. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as pleasure snaked through her. “Such a beautiful shape. So soft. I wish I could see you better.”

His voice hypnotized her as he continued to play with her sensitive breasts, molding her flesh to his, rubbing and lightly pinching her nipples. “But feeling you is enough for now. It’ll have to be, since I don’t have the time or patience to take you to bed. Take off your shoes.” Harper blinked. His tone had been clipped. A little harsh. Instead of being offended, her arousal mounted. She liked seeing the evidence of his need displayed large.

Kneeling, she untied her tennis shoes, removed them, and then stripped off her bootie socks. She stood and began to peel her yoga pants off, but Latimer came closer. He stepped between her feet, wedging her thighs apart with his leg, and jerked down on her pants. For some reason, the dominant stance he took, the way he parted her legs with his and pressed her mons against his thigh, sent a rush of warm wetness through her. He lowered both her underwear and pants below her ass. Then his hands were back, cupping her buttocks, molding them to his palms. She moaned shakily, because he was pressing her * against his hard thigh while he fondled her. It felt so good, she couldn’t stop herself from circling her hips, getting friction on her clit. His response was to squeeze her flesh more forcefully.

“God you’re gorgeous,” he growled, and again, he sounded tense. Angry? Harper realized he was a little angry at that moment. Not at her, any more than she was at him. Angry that he couldn’t control himself.

Any more than she could.

He grasped her buttocks, grinding her sex against his thigh for a thrilling moment. Then he muttered a curse, and bent, yanking down her pants all the way. She’d barely acknowledged him throwing the garments aside, then he was lifting her in his arms. Harper gasped in surprise at his abrupt move. He held her beneath her ass. Her clutching hands coasted up rock-hard, bulging biceps. Her arms instinctively circled his neck, her legs tightening around his waist.

He took several steps, and hot water was coursing down her back. She had been cold, and just didn’t realize it while under the spell of Latimer’s hands and mouth. Her skin roughened at the contrast of the hot water against her chilled skin. Her throat vibrated in pleasure. Latimer caught her open mouth with his, capturing her cry. And again, she was drowning in him.

A moment later, he set her feet on the ground.

“I can’t think straight when you kiss me,” she mumbled distractedly, because he was still doing it, his mouth moving hungrily along her neck.

“I can’t think straight when I kiss you, either.”