My thighs clench, and I feel my panties dampen. “Davin—”
“Inside. Now.”
We move together, his hand finding mine as we cross through the snow to the front door. He unlocks it and pulls me through. The moment the door closes behind us, his mouth is on mine.
This kiss is different from the ones before. Hungrier. More urgent. His hands grip my hips and pull me flush against him, and I feel his hard cock through his jeans. I make a sound against his mouth that’s pure need.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine. “Bedroom?”
“Yes.”
He takes my hand and leads me through the cabin, past the crackling fire that throws warm amber across the walls. The bedroom glows with slanted afternoon gold pouring through the windows, turning everything soft and molten. When he turns to face me, the intensity in his eyes wraps around me. It’s dark, unblinking, stripping me bare before his hands even move.
“You’re sure?” His voice is low, edged with restraint that’s already fraying. “Because once we start, you’re mine.”
“I want to be yours.” I close the distance, palms gliding up the hard planes of his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath my fingers. “I want all of you.”
A rough sound rumbles from his throat. He hauls me flush against him, bodies colliding with deliberate force, my softness yielding to his solid frame. His mouth crashes onto mine, no gentle coaxing this time: lips demanding, tongue sweeping deep in hungry, claiming strokes that steal my breath and leave me dizzy. Heat radiates from him, woodsmoke and something uniquely him clinging to his skin, mixing with the sharp edge of arousal.
His fingers find the hem of my sweater and drag it upward, savoring the reveal. The fabric whispers over my skin before it’s gone; cool air kisses the newly bared curves, but his palms are there instantly. His hands are large, warm, sliding along my ribs like he’s mapping territory he’s already claimed in his mind.
“You were so strong today,” he murmurs against my lips, voice thick with pride and something darker. His hands rise to cradle the full weight of my breasts through my bra, thumbs brushing slow, deliberate arcs over my hardening nipples. “I don’t know what Claire’s agenda was, but we set her straight. We both did.”
“Davin—”
“You didn’t need me to defend you.” He reaches behind, unhooks my bra with one smooth flick, and lets it fall. His gaze devours the soft, heavy spill of my breasts, nipples drawn tight under his scrutiny. Reverence wars with raw hunger in his expression. “I wanted everyone to know you’re mine.”
He lowers his head and takes one nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. The suction is firm, insistent, with his tongue swirling in tight, teasing circles before he draws me deeper, cheeks hollowing. Sparks race straight to my pussy. My gasp turns into a moan I can’t stifle. His other hand kneads the neglected breast, fingers splaying wide to appreciate the generous curve, thumb and forefinger capturing my nipple and rolling it with slow, exquisite pressure that makes my hips twitch forward.
“So beautiful,” he breathes against my damp skin, switching sides to lavish the other breast with the same devoted attention. “So capable. So fucking perfect.” The words vibrate through me as his tongue lashes, then soothes, teeth grazing just enough to make me arch into his mouth, my fingers knotting in his hair to hold him there.
Pleasure coils low and hot in my pussy, panties already damp with want and need. He releases my breast with a soft, wet popand trails open-mouthed kisses down the center of my torso. He lingers over the curve of my waist, the lush swell of my belly, nuzzling the soft roll above my hips like it’s sacred.
His hands move to my jeans. “Can I?”
“Yes. Please.”
The button gives; the zipper slides. He peels denim and lace down together, kneeling as he eases them past the flare of my hips, the thickness of my thighs. I step free, suddenly naked, while he remains clothed. The contrast makes every inch of my skin feel exposed, electric. His eyes burn with worship, tracing every curve like he’s committing me to memory: the generous roundness of my hips, the soft give of my stomach, the full press of my thighs.
“On the bed,” he rasps. “Let me see you.”
I back toward the mattress and sink onto it, reclining against the pillows. The sheets are cool against my heated skin. He strips his shirt off, his scarred muscle shifting under the golden afternoon light, powerful shoulders rolling as he kneels between my parted legs. His possessive hands glide up the outsides of my thighs, then hook under my knees and spread me wide, thumbs stroking the tender inner skin until I tremble.
“You let me claim you in public,” he says, gaze locked on mine, voice gravel-rough. “Now let me claim you here.”
He lowers himself slowly, with hot, deliberate breath fanning over my pussy, making me clench in anticipation. Then his mouth is on me: no tentative licks but a long, firm drag of tongue that makes my back bow off the bed. He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating straight through me.
“That’s it.” His strong hands grip my thighs harder, holding me open, fingers digging into plush flesh with just enough pressure to anchor me. “Let me hear you.”
He devours me with focused intensity, his tongue circling my clit in tight, relentless spirals, then flattening to lap withunhurried strokes that build pressure in devastating layers. He explores lower, dipping inside to taste deeper, curling to stroke my sensitive walls before returning to suck my clit gently between his lips. The wet sounds of his mouth on me fill the room, obscene and intimate.
When he slides two thick fingers into me, I cry out. My hips lift to meet his thrusts. He curls them upward, finding that swollen spot inside and rubbing with rhythmic pressure while his tongue never stops its merciless dance on my clit.
“So wet for me,” he murmurs against my pussy, voice reverent and filthy at once. “So responsive. This perfect body opening for me like it was made to.”
The dual assault shatters my control. Pleasure stacks higher, tighter, with my thighs quaking around his shoulders. My hands claw at the sheets. My breath comes in broken sobs. Every stroke of his fingers, every flick of his tongue pushes me closer until I’m teetering on the edge.
“Davin, I’m going to—”
