He ran a finger up my arm, over my shoulder, along my neck, and then down between my breasts, before he circled my nipples, watching the entire time. “You burn for me everywhere I touch you,” he whispered.
I reached out for him, lifting the soaked shirt over his arms, over his cap, and then flung it to the floor. He kicked his boots off and unbuttoned his pants. Using my feet, I shoved them down his legs, watching as he stood before me in nothing but the cap.
“Fuck me,” I pleaded. “Please.”
“First.” He reached out and slipped the pants from my legs. His bicep bunched and his back muscles rippled as he turned to throw my pants into the pile with his shirt. “Dinner.”
“I’m not fucking hungry,” I snapped. Not for food. His shoulders were wide, strong, and I wanted to sink my teeth deep into his skin.
“I’m fucking starving,” he said, and with a hand to my chest, pushed me back onto the table.
His fingers trailed up my left leg, and I moved a little for him so he could unfasten the bodysuit. Before he did, he ran his fingers back and forth, back and forth, teasing me. My entire body felt tense, ready to go off, and I almost did when I heard the sound of a snap releasing and felt a breath of fresh air between my legs.
“Soaked,” he said, his voice low and rough. His fingers moved, a caressing brush, and then slid between my folds. My breaths came faster, the trembling coming harder. My legs parted even wider as a finger slid inside and his mouth came against me. My back arched off the table, my ass sliding down even further, wanting to be as close to his tongue as possible.
He devoured me like a man who hadn’t eaten dinner in alongtime, and I came like a woman who hadn’t felt his touch in forever.
“Cash!” I screamed out, my thighs snapping shut when my orgasm tore through me, even wilder than the storm outside.
Wind howled and rain battered. Every so often the house would be lit with a shock of lightning, and I could see the pure desire in my tiger’s eyes. When a roar of thunder would rattle the walls, it seemed to echo the sound of his pounding heart, as if he were on the hunt.
Forget what he looked like. That’s what hefeltlike to me—a dangerous animal.
I was still riding the high when he entered me in a thrust so brutal that my eyes sprang open, a hiss escaped my lips, and my claws came out, sinking deep into his back.
“There she is,” he said, looking down on me with hooded eyes. “Mark me even deeper.”
I tore into his skin as I lifted myself up, meeting him thrust for thrust, the size of him stretching my walls until pleasure clashed with pain. “Oh fuck!” I screamed out. “Oh fuck! Yes!”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he lifted me up, our bodies moving together as he carried us toward another room. His back hit a wall first, though, and then he turned us, so that the face of the cold stone touched my skin. The wall was jagged, and as he pumped into me, faster, harder, it left lines of fire down my back.
He was fucking me so hard that my breasts spilled out of the bodysuit from impact and jiggled every time he made the full connection.
Then we were moving again, and after he shoved open a door on the lower floor, he set me down on the bed in the room. He felt around until he hit something solid. I heard a drawer open, a matchstick catch, and then a tiny flame came out of the darkness, lighting up his face. He lit a long taper candle and then blew out the matchstick.
His eyes journeyed over my body as the flame brought me to life. His eyes lowered to almost closed when he found my eyes. He looked higher than he had the night out on the fire escape. “My tigress,” he said. “Allmine.” With a growl that seemed to come from the deepest part of his throat, he ripped the bodysuit from my body before he entered me again.
He flipped us over on the bed a second later. My palms were solid against his chest, my hair dripping water down his skin, and I stared into his eyes as I slowly moved up his shaft. I moved even slower when I worked myself back down.
His hands came to my ass, digging into my skin, and then to my hips. I could feel his urge, his desire, like it was my own. He wanted me to tear into him, to ride him hard and fast, to make this about fucking.
Time and place.
I wanted a redo of our wedding night. I demanded to go deeper than skin. I’d coast in his bloodstream, getting him high off my kisses. I’d make his heart thunder in his chest from my touch. I’d make him feel lightning in his balls when he came inside of me.
I’d cause nothing but utter chaos on his body, so he could feel peace down to his soul once I reached it. All of that pent-upwant—it was going to be released from its cage and set free with mine.
My hands slid up his chest, to his neck, over the tattoo, where his pulse slammed against my fingers. My tongue slipped up his chin, savoring the taste of salt from his skin, until my mouth met his.
I kissed him slow, my hips moving at the same pace, and a noise I’d never heard before escaped from his lips. It was a deep groan of satisfaction. When I sat up, taking him in even deeper, I couldn’t stop the echo of the same noise that left my mouth.
I’d never experienced anything like this before.Him.The connection.It was as deep as he was inside of me.
“Ah!” I screamed out when he rocked his hips up so hard that I lost my breath. He flipped me over so fast that I had no chance to stop it. He lifted my leg, positioning himself in a way that I knew he was about to go deeper.
He was going to tear me apart again, fuck me like the animal he felt he was, because he didn’t know how to let the man rule this.
A tear slipped down my cheek that I damned to hell. But I let him see. I lifted my chin as it rolled down my cheek until it met the pillow. His chest heaved and his fingers dug into my leg. His muscles strained. His erection was about to tear through his skin.
