Tastes so good, make a grown man cry. He got it. He totally got it.
She blew out a ragged breath and dipped her chin to look at him there on his knees in front of her. Her gaze was slumberous, gratified, and hot. She wanted more. More of him. More of them.
His dick was already rock hard. But the heat in her eyes made it harder still. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved. His position made his balance precarious. Before he knew it, he was flat on his back on the floor. And Samantha? Well, she was on top of him, straddling him.
“Where in God’s name did you learn to do that?” she asked breathlessly, her voice throaty and hoarse. “Never mind. I don’t want to know, just…bravo, my friend. Brav-fucking-o.”
A wide smile pulled at Ozzie’s lips. Only Samantha. Funny, flirty, wildly entertaining Samantha could make him want to laugh and fuck at the same time.
“And now,” she said, a wicked gleam making her brown eyes black, “it’s my turn.”
He didn’t need to ask what she was talking about. She made it clear when she whipped his T-shirt over his head. She paused to place a soft, warm kiss on each of the red spots left behind by her Taser and then scooted down his legs to tackle the button on his fly.
She was glorious in her nudity. Unabashedly determined to get him in the same state. He was left with a dilemma. Did he touch all those inches of smooth, pale flesh. Or did he tuck his arms behind his head and enjoy the show?
She made the decision for him when she scooted out of his reach. With a determined yank, she pulled his jeans to his knees, revealing the heft of his cock as it bounced against his lower belly and the awful, raised red flesh of his wound.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the extent of his injury. His jaw clenched with the effort not to reach down and cover the hideous sight. The bomb had torn away chunks of flesh and muscle, leaving horrendous divots behind. Gouges from the shrapnel that had ripped into him had formed huge, jagged scars. The surgeons had done the best they could. But they had worried more about saving the functionality of his leg and less about aesthetics.
“You got this in a motorcycle crash?” she murmured, and he almost told her the truth then and there. Then she said, “Oh, Ozzie,” and surprised him when, instead of being repulsed, she leaned down and carefully, ever so gently pressed her lips to the worst of his scars. Over and over again. Beauty kissing the beast.
“It’s ugly.” He ground his teeth. “You don’t have to—”
“Hush,” she grumbled at him, still moving her soft lips over his mutilated flesh. “Scars aren’t ugly. They’re proof of a life lived. I just wish I could take away your hurt.”
His heart Hulked out, growing so huge, he was surprised it didn’t burst through his rib cage.
Sweet…
It wasn’t a word he usually ascribed to Samantha, but it fit all the same. When you got right down to it, she was so damned sweet.
Her breasts hung down like ripe fruit as she continued to press soft kisses to his mangled leg. Her pert bottom stuck up in the air. It was too much. His dick flexed and bounced, and a hot drop of pre-ejaculate plopped onto his belly.
“Believe me,” he told her, his voice strangled. “Right now, I don’t feel anything but you. In fact, I’d say right now, I feel the best I’ve felt in my whole sorry life.”
So true. Because for the first time in his whole sorry life, he was with a woman he loved.
“Really?” She quirked a dark eyebrow, and then the only term to describe her was she-devil. She ran her hands over his chest, over the erect, aching nubs of his nipples, and down the corrugated muscles of his abs. The feel of her touch was hell on his self-control. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her. “I think that’s a challenge.” She leaned forward to take his swollen head into her hot little mouth.
* * *
Ozzie was a big man. In every way. Samantha couldn’t take all of him. Still, that didn’t stop her from trying. Because h-h-holy hell, he tasted sweet. So hard and throbbing against the roof of her mouth.
Just like the rest of him, his cock was gorgeous. Long and thick. Substantial was the word she was looking for. She wrapped her hand around his base, amazed when her fingers didn’t touch. And then, with deliberate slowness, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked.
A helpless gurgle sounded at the back of his throat. He had been watching her, but now his head hit the floor with a thunk. One hand fisted at his side, and the other fisted in her hair. Urging her onward? Telling her to stop?
Since he didn’t say, she chose door number one. She bathed his length with her tongue even as she stroked with her hand. His big, muscled body bunched with tension, his hips shifting slightly as if it was killing him to hold still.
“Sweet…Jesus,” he moaned, sinking his teeth into his lower lip.
He was so damned sexy. So damned…everything. And any satisfaction he’d given her was blown away by the renewed ache of desire. Her breasts felt heavy, the tips ultrasensitive. Between her legs, she thrummed with blood, her flesh twitching with the need to be touched.
But she couldn’t stop what she was doing to him. She didn’t want to stop what she was doing. She had been at his mercy earlier. He was at her mercy now.
“Don’t hold back,” she commanded, his cock momentarily slipping free of her lips. “I want you to give yourself to me.”
And she did, in more ways than just this.
