Stars shine above us, the moon a waning gibbous, its soft light enough for me to see in the dark.
“Tailgate.” She reaches out blindly to pull the handle.
It falls open, and I set her down to get the blanket, but she has other plans. She quickly strips out of her shirt and shorts, and I can’t tear my eyes away. Her pale skin glistens under the moonlight, every inch of her magnificent body exposed to my heated gaze. Tossing the clothing aside, she stands unabashedly naked before me, a goddess among mortals.
“You are so fucking beautiful.”
Her beauty leaves me breathless. But it’s not only her body I want so badly. It’s all of her. Her compassion and bravery, her intellect and her heart. Her pain and her strength. Everything about her is absolutely beautiful.
“Fallon,please, touch me,” she entreats.
Not able to control myself, I set her on the end of the tailgate, the blunt nails of my fingers digging into her ass as lurid fantasies of every filthy thing I want to do to her run rampant.
Ripping my shirt over my head, I drape it over her shoulders. “Lie back, baby.”
She immediately obeys, and I take in every gorgeous inch of her. The elongated, sensuous line of her body when she raises her arms above her head. The way her blonde tresses fan around her. How her nipples tighten into dusky pink buds. The blue butterflies inked up her side. The prurient smile that graces her kiss-swollen lips.
“You have no idea what I want to do to you.” Running my hands down her legs from thigh to ankle, I gently set her feet on the end of the tailgate.
She widens her knees, giving me a glimpse of the paradise between her legs. “I want you to do every single one.”
Fuck, yes.
“Touch yourself, Kitten.”
She doesn’t balk at my challenge. She meets it with her own, daring me to watch as her hand teases down her chest, her stomach, then slowly, ever so slowly, moving lower. The beast contained within snarls with satisfaction when she dips two fingers inside her heat, her back arching, lost in her own pleasure. Watching her, she fulfills every debauched dream I’ve ever had of her.
Elizabeth used to be self-conscious about her scars. I love that she owns them and doesn’t try to hide them. She once told me that our scars aren’t a weakness, but a strength. When I look at her, all I see is perfection and a woman who is stronger than any person I know. She survived unspeakable horrors and great loss, yet she still views the world that took everything from her with untainted innocence.
I take her hand and bring it to my lips, sucking each finger into my mouth. “Mine,” I say, shedding my jeans and moving between her outstretched thighs, my need to be inside her consuming every other thought in my head.
Bending over her, her fingernails scrape along my scalp and thread through my hair as I lick a decadent line up the middle of her torso from pubis to sternum. Her smooth, soft skin tastes like honeysuckle. When I get to her luscious, full breasts, her pink-flushed nipples are too much to resist.
“That feels so good,” she moans as I work her tight buds with my tongue, knowing I can make her come like this. But not yet.
Shackling her wrists in one hand, I pin them flat to the bed of the truck. Her breath hitches when I stretch her out like a sacrifice on an altar. Elizabeth writhes under me, beckoning me to take what I want. I give myself a moment to let my gaze travel across the curves of her body dappled by starlight. Such a stunning sight.
Giving in to my need to claim her, my lips go on a frenzy of exploration across her goose-fleshed skin, her breasts, her stomach, down the inside of her thigh, where I administer a love bite to mark her.
“I need you.” Gripping my neck, she urges me up to her mouth, her plush lips welcoming me, our tongues dancing a lover’s song.
Every time I kiss her, it’s like the first time—thrilling, heart-pounding, soul-shattering. I’m not naïve. I know that it’s different with her. That every kissmeanssomething. Because I love her.
She hooks her feet around my upper thighs and tries to pull me to her and glares narrowed eyes at me when I resist.
“Want something, Kitten?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Such filthy words from my angel.
“Patience, baby.” I chuckle, enjoying the game. Cat and mouse. We’ve always been like that.
Curving my hands under her lower back, I lift her up, the heat of my breath cascading over her navel as I nip a trail down her quivering stomach, inching closer to the heaven I’m about to feast on.
“Yes!” she cries, her hands fisting my hair when I thrust my tongue deep inside her.
It doesn’t take long for me to bring her to the cusp of orgasm. Seconds after I put my mouth on her, Elizabeth explodes, my name falling from her lips in the most erotic way. I don’t give her a chance to recover. I attack her clit again like it’s my mission in life. I bring her to the edge over and over, building her up only to deny her the release she’s desperate for.
