She moaned and yanked on his shirt so he’d duck his head and let her toss it free. A sigh escaped her, into his mouth, when she finally settled her hands on that solid torso. Frantically, she caressed each bullet hole, knife wound, and ripped muscle.
He overwhelmed her, and she grasped his jeans, unzipping them.
Releasing her mouth, he ran his slippery palms down her arms and then gracefully dropped to his knees.
She protested, her hands now over his shoulders.
“Dana.” One word from him had her growing still. His hands were sure and gentle as he tugged down her yoga pants and panties, cool air brushing her skin.
He froze.
She blinked. Oh, crap. She’d forgotten. Caught up in his seduction, she’d completely forgotten the marks still on her upper thighs from the crazy senator and his sharp knife.
Wolfe jerked as if he’d been punched in the gut. Gingerly, he reached out and rubbed a gentle finger along one of the many still healing cuts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She tried to concentrate. “I didn’t want you to kill him.” It was the truth. “You saved me before he could do any more damage.”
“I would’ve killed him.” Wolfe glanced up, looking dangerous and big, even on his knees.
Yeah, she knew.
“I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and kissed each mark with a gentleness that nearly undid her. “These will heal. And I’ll make you forget.” The whipped cream suddenly sprayed across her lower part, and his mouth found her right where she ached for him.
“Jesus, Wolfe.” Fire lanced through her, and her thighs trembled. She grasped his shoulders, trying for balance.
Laughing against her core, he grasped her hips and tossed her on the bed, his mouth working her the entire time, his tongue lashing her clit as if he couldn’t get enough. It was too much. She gasped, trying for control, while sparks uncoiled inside her faster than she could track.
An orgasm took her, spiraling from nowhere, shaking through her. She closed her eyes and rode the waves, shocked at the height of them. When she was finished, he stood up. There was whipped cream in his hair from her hands.
“That was so fast,” she gasped.
His eyebrows rose. “Want another one?” He moved to bend down.
“No.” She held up a hand. “I want you. All of you.”
His eyes darkened, and he shoved his jeans off, freeing himself.
She grinned, her body on fire for him. “Glad to see you’re in proportion.” Truth be told, the guy was huge.
“Smart-ass.” He leaned over and drew a condom out of the bedside table.
She sat up, reaching for him.
“Later. Want to be inside you now.” He quickly rolled it on and moved her up the bed, covering her.
This was too good to be true. She explored his chest, the whipped cream starting to dry and get sticky. “Your bed will be a mess.”
“Then let’s make it good.” Somehow, he found the can and sprayed more whipped cream across her chest.
She laughed, widening her legs; she hadn’t expected Wolfe to be fun, just mind-blowing.
He pressed against her, sliding the head of his cock through her wetness, and she stopped laughing. Even after her orgasm, she was tight, and her body tried to resist his size. Pleasure and pain caught her, and she panted, then held her breath.
His gaze kept hers, dark and intense, as he pushed inside her inch by inch, filling her until she wasn’t sure where she began and he ended.
Finally, he stopped, deep inside her. Fully taking her. This was more than fun and more than friendship, but she couldn’t land on the right feeling.
As if sensing her sudden vulnerability, he caressed her jawline. “Deep breaths, baby.”
