I want this. All of this. Forever.
Her bear was in her head, cheering her on, but Mallory tried to ignore the beast. This was a release—nothing more—and she was confident it was going to be a hell of an experience.
Remy growled again and broke the kiss, his lips nibbling their way to the shell of her ear. He gently bit on her lobe, and she moaned quietly. “This isn’t how I intended?—”
“Don’t think,” she whispered, tightening her hold on the strands of his hair. “Just feel.”
“We should?—”
She kissed him, cutting off whatever argument he was about to give. If they brought logic or reason into this moment, the moment would pass.
And they’d both still be edgy, uncomfortable.
“I just want to feel,” she whispered against his lips. “With you.”
His groan was guttural, loud enough to be heard, if anyone else were out here with them. “I didn’t bring protection.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m protected.”
His body stiffened for a scant moment before he squeezed her ass, lifted her onto her tiptoes, and very deliberately rolled his hips, that erection she had been craving for four long years dragging across her most sensitive area.
She arched, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall. He took advantage of the opening and kissed her neck, sucking and biting and licking her hypersensitive skin until she whimpered, a desperatepleasefalling off her tongue.
He grasped her chin, pulling away just enough to be able to look her in the eye. “Tell me, Mallory. Do you want this? Or do you need it?”
“Oh God,” she said, her hands on the front of his jacket, her fingers curled into the satiny material. “I need it.”
“It?”
“You.” She practically breathed the word, realizing how true it was even as the small gasp tumbled over her lips. “I need you, Remy.”
He stared at her for another second before pressing a hard kiss to her lips and then whispering, “You have me, Mallory. I’m all yours.”
She arched, her body desperate to be connected to his. They weren’t close enough. Too many layers between her skin and his.
“Please,” she said again.
He grinned, looking like he’d just won a prize. Not just any prize, buttheprize.
Sliding his hands down her legs, he grasped her thighs, lifting, until her feet left the ground. He began walking sideways; she locked her ankles behind his back and clung to his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Moving us deeper into the shadows,” he replied.
When he was apparently satisfied with their location, he pressed her against the wall again, holding her in place with his pelvis while he struggled out of his coat, letting it drop to the asphalt.
With her gaze on the garment, she asked, “Why did you do that?”
“You need to get out of a whole lot more clothing than I do?—”
“Shame,” she interrupted, slipping her hands under the hem of his shirt and letting her fingers trail up, over those rigids of muscles that shivered as she stroked them.
“We can get another room. The front desk clerk said there were plenty when we checked in?—”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to lose this momentum. I don’t want us to think too much.”
His eyes flared, some unnamed emotion there, and in the next breath, his lips pressed to hers, his fingers digging into her hips like he might be able to will her clothing from her body.
She stripped off her coat and dropped it onto his. When she lifted her shirt, pulling it over her head, his gaze tracked her movements until her breasts were exposed. He watched as they puckered and hardened.
