The world feared this marauder. I didn’t have a fucking care in the world when he was this close to me. Maybe it was the stupidest thing I ever did, or the most brilliant, but I believed he wouldn’t let me fall. I believed him when he said my arse was too beautiful to bruise.
We were connected in a way that was hard to describe, except for this: what happened to me, happened to him, and vice versa. It was the price we’d both pay for him stealing my heart.
Our mouths paused just long enough for both of us to grin at his comment. Our teeth made contact before his tongue invaded my mouth again and my hands started to work on his pants. Once he was free, he brought me down some, situating me, and then he entered me slowly. His eyes were intense on mine.
The sound that came from his mouth when he was buried fully inside of me, a deep groan, gave me more pleasure than his dick—and that was plenty enough to keep me satisfied. It fit his build. It fit everything about him. Then he started to move. I closed my eyes, the intensity between us too much to take in.
The more he moved, the more I felt the pressure building and building. I was about to come again. He kept hitting one spot that sent fucking shock waves throughout my body.
Then he hit me so hard that I hissed. It fucking hurt.
He made a similar noise when my nails sunk deep into his flesh. “That’s it, my darlin’,” he said. “Let go and mark me.”
I scratched him from one end to the other, wanting his tongue to go even deeper into my mouth, for him to ram that spot again and hurt me, so the bitter pain would make the pleasure even sweeter. It wasn’t a punishment. It was a reward.
“Fuck,” he said, lifting me from the railing, carrying me into the bedroom. “You’re burnin’ for me.”
He set me down on the bed, and before he could reach for me, I slammed my mouth against his. Our tongues were at war, like my mind was at battle to keep my heart.
We kissed until I couldn’t breathe.
Our bodies were as crazed as our tongues. We rolled around on the bed, his body against mine, mine against his, like we were out to kill each other.
Needing to breathe but also starving to have my mouth on his skin, I placed my lips on his chin, his neck, along his chest, over the muscles in his stomach, using my tongue to make a wet trail down his body. The muscles in his stomach went rigid when I put my mouth around him, tasting nothing but pure male, before I licked my lips and straddled him, taking him inside to the hilt.
I didn’t move to a punishing rhythm. I moved slowly, my hair moving against my back like a fan, rolling my hips in sweet, languorous swirls against him. I set my hands against his chest, scratching instead of clawing, using him as a base to lift myself before I lowered myself down again.
As I moved, I dipped my head low, coming down to kiss him. The kiss was as languorous as my movements.
His eyes opened and met mine. Just like that feral green-eyed tiger on his neck, over the pulse point, the wild animal in him seemed to come alive.
With a whoosh of breath, he flipped me over onto my back, and setting my legs on each side of him, slammed into me. His eyes were hard on mine, as hard as he was fucking me. He was wild but in control. Nothing sloppy about him. The relentless pounding kept up, like a savage animal, until he withdrew, and then came back even harder than before.
“Cash!” I screamed. Then my entire body, the fucking traitor, went off like an arrow from my bow. The pressure released me, and I was flying into his territory, about to land. My aim? His heart.
A second later, he came inside of me, a look on his face that I’d never forget. It was the wildest thing I’d ever seen. It was a look a woman could get addicted to.
The only high left in my body was Cash Kelly.
Once I was able to catch my breath, an internal grin lit me up. I’d gotten to him. He had flung me off and fucked me like no man had ever fucked me before because I had. He’d felt something.
I’d felt it, too. A connection that was stronger than just feral attraction between us.
If I was a betting woman, I’d place my money on Kelly being in a bad mood or gone by the time I got up the next day. I hadn’t known him long, but what I did know, he wasn’t going to like what just happened. Not that I liked the feelings part, either, but I was out to get even, which meant I was willing to make sacrifices for my cause.
He hovered over me, still hard inside of me, and I blinked before my eyes fully opened to meet his.
“You called me Cash,” he said, his chest heaving. I didn’t think it was from exertion. He’d barely broken a sweat. I was ringing wet.
“Unless you lied,” I said, my voice rough, “that’s your name.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is,” he said, but his eyes were narrowed.
He pulled out of me, giving me his hand, helping me up. That daring look had made it back to his eyes, and that animal was still hungry, or out to prove something—that he hadn’t felt what he thought he did.
There was no way I was imagining it. It felt too real. It was like getting too close to a raging fire and then ignoring the burns after.
“Where are we going?” I said, hardly able to walk. No man had ever fucked me like that before.Sleep.I craved it.
