I wrap my arms around his neck as he nudges my knees apart with his thigh, and it allows him to take another step forward so our chests are pressed together. The heat of his body envelops me, warming my limbs while simultaneously setting every nerve alight.
Spreading my legs a couple inches wider, I deepen the kiss and press my body against his as if I’m trying to inextricably attach myself to him.
A low sound rumbles in his throat, something between a growl and a groan, before he threads his fingers through my hair and makes a fist, tugging my head backward so I’m forced to face the ceiling. He stares down at me with hisdark, quiet intensity before slowly bending over me, placing chaste kisses along my jawline and down my neck.
His movements are desperate yet unhurried, like he wants to savor every moment. The warmth of his breath is a stark contrast to the cool air of the garage, and I don’t know if the chills prickling my skin are from the stark difference in temperature or the anticipation of where these kisses might lead.
When Ambrose reaches the tender spot where my neck meets my shoulder, he bites the skin, drawing a gasp from my lips. It’s not painful, but the pressure of him sucking at the skin is erotic in a way I didn’t expect. He sucks hard enough that I know the spot will bruise by morning. I’ve always dismissed hickeys as immature and somewhat inappropriate. But this feels nothing like that. It’s like Ambrose is marking me as his, claiming me, creating a mark to remind me every time I look in the mirror that I’m his.
My eyes flutter closed as I revel in the feeling of his lips against my skin, and when his hands glide over the front of my sweater, I arch into his touch. He doesn’t slip underneath my sweater like I expect him to, but I’m somewhat grateful he doesn’t rip all my clothes off considering how cold it is in here.
My stomach swoops in anticipation as Ambrose lowers himself to kneel on the garage floor in front of me. The sawdust scatters beneath his knees, releasing a puff of that faint, woodsy scent that permeates the air of the garage.
Ambrose’s fingers find the waistband of my leggings, and with a tug that's both assertive and gentle, he pulls them down, and I lift my hips slightly to allow him.
The cold air hits my exposed skin as the fabric slips down my thighs, and I draw in a sharp breath as my leggings pool around my ankles. Ambrose looks up at mefrom his position, his eyes burning with barely controlled lust.
My whole body hums with anticipation and desire as he traces his fingers across my bare skin, his movements agonizingly slow.
I’m not sure if he’s savoring the moment or intentionally tormenting me, but the tension between us is palpable. I'm aching for him, my body throbbing with need, but he seems content to take it slow.
Finally, he leans in closer, blowing softly against the wetness gleaming between my thighs. The unexpected action catches me off guard, causing my muscles to tense and a whimper to fall past my lips from the sensitivity.
Ambrose smirks, aware of exactly what he’s doing to me and how much he’s driving me mad. Slowly, he leans in, kissing up my inner thigh until he finally presses his lips to my pussy.
I shudder at the contact, gripping the armrests of the stool tightly to steady myself.
“Fuck, you taste good,” Ambrose murmurs against my inner thigh before swiping his tongue up my center and suctioning his lips around my clit.
With all sense of self-preservation forgotten, I grind my hips into Ambrose’s measured yet relentless motions as he uses his lips and tongue to wind me tighter and tighter, driving me to the brink of insanity.
In the back of my mind, I find myself wishing we were in a bed, on a couch, anywhere that I could fall back and let my body ride out the waves of pleasure threatening to tear me apart.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t switch up his movements, simply continuing the perfectly torturous movements with his mouth while I struggle to stay upright.
I whimper and moan as the tension inside me builds.
“Ambrose,” I cry out just as my orgasm crashes over me, and I grind my hips against him to ride out the waves of pleasure that crash over me again and again. My voice echoes through the garage with every desperate noise that falls past my lips.
After seconds that feel more like hours, I gently nudge Ambrose’s face back an inch or two, overwhelmed by the sensitivity and still breathing heavily on the comedown from my orgasm.
He glances up at me with a wicked grin. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”
I can’t help but smile back. His dark hair is mussed from where I ran my fingers through it, and there’s a wild gleam in his eye that makes my stomach twist in excitement.
“Well, I’m glad you got your wish,” I tease.
His expression turns mischievous, predatory, when he says, “I gotpartof my wish. There’s more to come.”
My eyes widen, and I don’t miss the double entendre.
Then suddenly, my dream from weeks ago flashes in my mind, and before I fully know what I’m initiating, I stand, pull up my pants, and announce, “If you want more, you’ll have to catch me first.”
Without another word, I run from the garage.
CHAPTER 38
Isprint across the yard, not daring to look behind me and risk slowing myself down. Adrenaline rushes through my veins at the thought of being caught. AtknowingI’ll be caught—he’s faster, stronger, and a supernatural being, after all—but the thrill of the chase is exhilarating nonetheless.
