He rubbed his hand down his face, dropped the crutches, and hopped onto the bed with me. “I must be losing my mind.”
“You say that like it’s a future event,” I teased. “We’re already there, my friend.”
Rowan’s jaw clenched. He rolled on his side and growled. “I don’t want to be yourfriend.”
“Me neither!” I grinned, reaching for his boxer briefs, but I stopped. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?”
Rowan blinked a few more times, then caressed my face. “You’re already doing it.”
The man brushed his lips across mine in a soft kiss that felt like a feather. I brought my hands up to his face and traced that strong jawline with my thumbs. He was so strong and sexy. It’s a wonder my panties hadn’t caught fire before my boat did.
That made me snicker.
Rowan pulled back. “This funny?”
“Sort of. I was thinking about how you nearly set fire to my panties before my boat caught fire.”
“That’s a weird thought to be having right now.”
“I am who I am.”
“Indeed.”
“Kiss me, then. I want you to kiss the stuffing out of me, then I want that ‘feasting’ on me thing you promised the other night.”
Rowan's eyes darkened with desire, the rich blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his black pupils as he drew closer. His hand came up to cradle my face, thumb brushing softly across my cheekbone in contrast to the intensity blazing in his gaze.
When his lips finally met mine, it wasn't gentle. This wasn't a sweet first kiss or a tender greeting. This was a raw need, days of wanting crystallized into a single, burning moment. His mouth claimed mine with fierce possession, drawing a gasp that he swallowed hungrily.
His other hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss. I clutched at his shoulders as he seemed to pour everything he’d been holding back into the passionate press of our lips. He tasted of coffee and something darker, more primal, that made my head spin.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against mine. His thumb traced my lower lip, swollen from his kiss. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, lost in the heated aftermath.
“Goldilocks, I want you to sit with your back to the wall, knees bent, hands on knees,” Rowan ordered.
“Yes, Boss.” I crab-walked into position.
“Say that again.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Maybe I don’t hate that nickname.”
I smiled at him and nervously did as he asked.
“Pull your knees wider,” Rowan demanded. “I want to see that pretty pussy. I want to see how affected you are by my kisses.”
An old twinge of embarrassment tried to rear its ugly head, but I beat it into submission. I felt like a powerful sex goddesswhen Rowan stared at my core, then swept one finger through my arousal, and then sucked on it.
“You taste so good, Goldilocks,” Rowan said. “Now, I feast. And you have to sit still.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“That’s my good Goldilocks.” Rowan kneeled on the bed before me, wrapping his arms around my upper thighs. “And what happens if you’re not screaming my name when you come?”
“Bad things, Boss. Bad things.”
“Yes. That’s right,” he said before diving between my legs.
