"I don't want a gentleman," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "I just ran a sixteen-nine. I’m riding a high that feels like lightning, and I’m not interested in being careful."
His eyes darkened, the pupils blowing out until the hazel was almost gone. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"Don't I?"
I reached out, placing my palm flat against his bare chest. His skin was burning hot. Under my hand, his heart was hammering a frantic, violent rhythm against his ribs. I let my gaze drop to his crotch again, watching his cock stiffen fully, straining against the soft cotton.
"You look like you’re in pain, Sterling," I whispered, stepping into his space until the fuzzy knot of the towel brushed his stomach.
"I am," he rasped. "My dick is throbbing so hard I can barely see straight. And you standing there smelling like citrus and sex isn't helping."
"Then do something about it."
I rose on my tiptoes, sliding my hand up his neck, tangling my wet fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and yanked his head down.
I didn't kiss him. I crashed into him.
And Beau shattered.
A growl tore out of his chest, a vibration rumbling against my lips, and then his arms were around me—hard. One arm banded around my waist, crushing me to him, the other hand tangling in my damp hair, angling my head back to deepen the angle.
It wasn't sweet. It was starving.
His mouth devoured mine, hot and wet and desperate. He tasted like mint toothpaste and dark, unspoken filth. I opened for him immediately, and his tongue swept in, claiming me, fucking my mouth with a rhythm that made my knees buckle.
Beau caught my weight instantly, walking me backward until my shoulders hit the doorframe with a solidthud.
He pinned me there, his body a heavy, solid wall. The friction of the towel against my skin was maddening, but the feel ofhimpressing against me was worse. Better.
I felt every inch of him. The hard planes of his chest flattening my breasts, and the undeniable, rock-hard steel of his cock grinding against my hip bone.
"Fuck," he breathed against my mouth, breaking the kiss just to bite at my lower lip, tugging the flesh with his teeth. "You have no idea. No idea how bad I’ve wanted to do this."
"Show me," I challenged, breathless, my head falling back as his mouth trailed hot, open kisses down my jawline.
His hand slid down my back, over the curve of my ass, and then slippedunderthe towel.
I gasped, a sharp, ragged sound. His palm was rough, calloused, and scorching against my bare ass cheek. He gripped me, fingers digging in, and hiked my leg up around his waist.
The towel was barely holding on. I was barely holding on.
"Beau," I whined, the sound purely involuntary, my hips bucking forward to meet the grind of his.
"You like that?" he murmured against the sensitive skin of my throat, nipping the pulse point there. "You like rubbing that sweet pussy against me?"
"Yes," I panted. "God, yes."
His hand slid from my ass to the inside of my thigh, his thumb brushing dangerously close to my center. Even through the remaining fold of the towel, the pressure sent a bolt of electricity straight to my clit. I was already slick, my body weeping for him.
"You're soaking wet," he groaned, feeling the heat radiating off me. "I bet you taste incredible. I bet if I dropped to my knees right now, you’d taste like everything I’ve been craving."
I dug my nails into his shoulders, anchoring myself as my vision spotted. "Do it. Please."
"I want to," he said, his voice wrecked, raw. He ground his hips forward, the head of his dick rubbing against my entrance through the layers of fabric. It was torture. "I want to rip this towel off and bury my face in you. Ì want to lift you up, wrap your legs around my waist and bury myself inside you until you can’t say anyone’s name but mine."
The image—him on his knees, or him deep inside me, filling me up—sent a jolt of liquid heat straight to my core. I looked him dead in the eye, seeing the struggle between the man who wanted to protect me and the animal who wanted to claim me.
"Maybe I want to forget my name," I whispered.
