Naomi smirks around him, a quiet thrill of victory sparking through her as his hands shoot to the back of her head, fingers fisting her hair. He urges her on, moving her head in a rhythm he likes. Her hands reach around his thighs and grasp his firm ass, pushing him deeper into her mouth, which earns her a stream of panting curses.
“Fuck,” he grits out, jaw tight. Naomi glances up through her lashes and finds his blue eyes storm-dark and untethered—a man completely, deliciously undone.
“Baby, I need you,” he groans. His hands release her hair and stroke her cheeks, drawing her up towards his face. His kiss is searing, desperate.
“Fuck me like I’m yours,” she breathes, the words barely out before he abandons all restraint.
Garrett lunges forward with a low, guttural sound that sends a thrill straight through her, all control abandoned. She doesn’t remember falling back, but suddenly she’s under him, surrounded by him, his breath hot against her skin, his touch wild and claiming.Her thoughts blur like breath fogging glass. There’s no going back. She asked for this. And God, she wants all of it.
CHAPTER 27
GARRETT
Being tall is great for reach, decent for looking tough, and a goddamn curse when trying to bed a five-foot-nothing stick of dynamite without snapping her in half.
It requires strategy. Restraint. A dedicated warm-up period.
Because Naomi’s small, sure—but she’s far from delicate. She’s like wildfire, greedy and consuming, pulling him in with a recklessness that will leave burn marks. And the way she looks now, with her freckled cheeks flushed, strawberry lips plush and puffy from his kisses, that wild red hair fanned out across the pillow begging to be wrapped around his fist, it’s like she’s daring him to lose control.
He grabs a condom from his wallet, still shoved into the pocket of his discarded jeans, before dropping back onto the bed. Naomi doesn’t miss a beat—already on him, licking and sucking at his neck, his chest, her soft hair dragging across his skin as he rolls it on.
Fuck. He’s not going to last. Not with her wrapped around him like this. Not in that tight, perfect little body.
Grabbing her hips, he hauls her onto his lap, settling her right over his erection. His hardness presses flush against her soft, slick center, and a wave of lust punches through him, blurring his vision.
She reaches between them, notching him against her entrance, then rolls her hips—taking him inside in one smooth, devastating glide.
A groan rips from his throat. She feels like heaven. Like heat and silk and home.
But she had not taken all of him. Not even close.
“Good thing I like a challenge,” she breathes, staring down at where they’re joined as she sinks lower—inch by torturous inch—until he’s barely holding on. He clenches his jaw hard, fighting the overwhelming urge to slam into her like a man possessed.
Don’t fuck this up.
His hands skim over the swell of her hips, up the smooth line of her ribs, and over the plush perfection of her breasts in slow, soothing strokes as she sinks deeper onto him until their bodies are flush. His eyes nearly roll back in his head at the overwhelming pleasure of her tight heat gripping him completely.
He exhales, voice rough with awe. “Should’ve known you’d be this perfect.”
Naomi grins down at him like a woman who just conquered Everest—and planted her flag. She circles her hips, and the friction sends a shudder through them both, drawing out ragged, matching moans.
She does it again. Then again, picking up a rhythm—grinding down in slow, devastating rolls, keeping him right on the edge.
Garrett grips her hips like a lifeline, his knuckles white with restraint. Every muscle in his body is locked tight, hanging on by a thread, resisting the urge to slam into her.
Naomi leans in, breath brushing his ear, voice all wicked delight. “What’s wrong, big guy? You holding out on me?”
That’s it. Thread snapped.
With a low growl, Garrett surges upward, flipping her beneathhim. The mattress rocks under the sudden shift, and Naomi lets out a startled laugh that turns into a moan as he cages her in with his body and thrusts into her.
She’s warm and plush underneath him, soft everywhere he’s hard. The sensation of her milky thighs wrapped around his waist and her bare breasts pressed against his chest makes him feel like a mindless animal.
He leans down to speak in her ear as he fucks her with slow, even strokes. Ones to drive her to the edge and keep her there, trembling.
“You’re gonna make me fuck the sass out of you,” he growls.
“Yeah, do that—” she moans, clutching his biceps. “Oh, God.”
