“I want your mouth on me,” I tell him, feeling myself slip into the new role of a woman who knows exactly what she wants. “I want you to make me come. Please, Nate, I need it. I?—”
He doesn’t let me finish. His mouth seals over my clit, and I nearly scream, my hands flying to his hair, my thighs clamping around his head. He eats me like he’s starving for it, like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted and he’s been denied until now, his tongue working in devastating circles while his fingers slide inside me.
“Oh God—oh fuck, right there, don’t stop?—”
He doesn’t stop. He groans into me, the vibrations shooting through me like a rocket, then adds another finger, stretching me, curling against that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes, and I feel the orgasm building with terrifying speed. It’s too much, too fast, all at once.
“I’m going to—” I can barely form words. “Nate, I’m?—”
“Give it to me.” The command trembles against my flesh. “Come on my tongue. Let me feel it. Let me eat you up like fucking candy.”
Oh God.
The orgasm rips through me in waves, my whole body convulsing, my hands pulling his hair hard enough that it would hurt anyone else. He works me through it with his mouth and fingers, drawing out every last tremor until I’m boneless and gasping on his countertop, nearly sliding off into the abyss.
Then, he’s on his feet, lifting me into his arms like I weigh nothing before carrying me through the penthouse with long, determined strides. “I’m not done with you yet. I haven’t even started, baby.”
He throws me on the bed—actually throws me, like I’m a ragdoll—and I bounce once on the mattress before he’s on top of me, pinning me down with his weight and godly frame. His T-shirt is gone, stripped off somewhere between the kitchen and here, and I take a moment to appreciate the view—all those muscles, the trail of dark hair leading down into his jeans, the way his hard chest heaves with barely controlled need.
My God, he’s bloody gorgeous.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growls.
“So are you.”
He fixes that problem with impressive efficiency. My skirt disappears. My bra follows. His jeans hit the floor, and then he’s naked above me, and oh.
Oh.
I knew he was big. I felt it through his trousers, had him between my lips before we were interrupted, remember how my mouth had to strain so much, I felt I dislocated my jaw after. But seeing him like this, hard and thick and monstrously large, straining toward me like a rabid beast?—
“Nervous?” He must see something in my face, something beyond the horny awe.
“A bit,” I admit rather shyly.
His expression softens slightly, though the fire still burns in his eyes. “We can stop. Anytime. You just say the word.”
“Never.”
His smile is wolfish, making my stomach do somersaults. “That’s my girl.”
His hands start sliding up my thighs, spreading them wider.
“Wait—” I start. “Should we… A condom?”
“I can’t get you pregnant.” His voice is matter-of-fact, but there’s something slightly bitter underneath. “One of the many gifts of genetic engineering. Sterile as a mule. Can’t catch anything either—my immune system destroys any pathogenbefore it can take hold.” He pauses, his eyes searching mine. “But if you want me to use something, I will. I won’t want to, but I will.”
“You won’t want to?” I repeat.
He gives me a cunning half-smile. “Let’s just say it’s one of my kinks.”
I think about it for half a second. Okay then.
“Good. Because I want to feel you,” I whisper. “All of you.”
Something flares in his eyes—dark, possessive, and very hungry.
“Christ, Mia.” His voice is ragged. “You can’t just say things like that.”
