His hands slide down my sides, fingers teasing at the hem of my shirt. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I need you.”
“You’ve got me, Della,” he murmurs before slanting his head and claiming my mouth.
The heat of the kiss is quick.
Molten lava, really. Shadow’s hands are rough and calloused as they slip under my shirt, skimming my skin with a tenderness that contradicts the hunger I saw in his gaze before he kissed me. His touch leaves trails of fire, making me arch into him, wanting more. Needing more.
I’ve never felt this way before—like my skin is too tight, like I might combust if he doesn’t touch every inch of me. The way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful, powerful even.
“Tyler,” I pant when he breaks the kiss.
“Christ, Della, baby, you’re so soft,” he whispers against my neck, his beard scratching deliciously against my sensitive skin.
I tug at his cut and shirt together, wanting them off him so I could feel more of him. Shadow lifts off me and strips both off with ease. His eyes lock with mine as he tugs my shirt upward. I help him by sitting up. The second the shirt is over my head, I reach behind me and unhook my bra, shimmying it off my shoulders.
Lifting my gaze to Shadow’s, I do my best to brush the shyness that wants to seep in away. I know I have nothing to be nervous about when it comes to this man, but there’s this part of me that can’t seem to stop the doubt.
“Fuck,” Shadow murmurs, dropping his gaze to my bare chest. “You’re gorgeous, Della, absolutely beautiful.”
All my doubts that seconds ago wanted in are washed away with those few words. Or maybe it’s the desire in Shadow’s dark eyes as he takes in my body.
“Let’s get these pants off you,” he states, reaching for the button of my jeans.
Within seconds, Shadow has the rest of my clothes off, and his are joining mine.
I have to take a moment to admire Shadow’s body as he stands naked before me. The tattoos across his chest, down his arms, the defined muscles of his abdomen, the scars that I want to learn about . . . all of it makes my mouth go dry. He’s magnificent, all hard lines and raw power, and I can’t believe he wants me.
“Like what you see?” he asks, that cocky smirk of his playing on his lips.
I nod, not trusting my voice. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel exposed in the best possible way.
“Good, because I fucking love what I see.” Shadow growls before lowering himself over me again.
His skin against mine is electrifying. The heat of him seeps into my bones. His hands are everywhere—in my hair, skimming down my sides, moving farther down, roaming toward my pelvis.
When his fingers find their destination between my thighs, I gasp, my back arching off the bed. The sensation is nearly too much. Overwhelming. His touch exactly where I need it most. Yet I want more.
“That’s it,” Shadow murmurs against my collarbone between kisses. “Let me hear you, little mouse. I want to hear your moans and cries for more.”
Shadow slides two fingers deep in my pussy, crooks, and hits my spot, drawing a gasping moan from my lips. There’s no escape for me in that moment as he works his fingers inside me like magic. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it, like he knows my body better than I do, finding spots that make me writhe beneath him.
Add his mouth to my breasts as he plays my pussy like a fiddle, all I can do is what he wants. Cries and moans of sheer pleasure leave my lips as I plead for more.
“Tyler, please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m begging for. More? Release? Him inside me? All of it, I think.
“Tell me what you want, Della,” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “I need to hear you say it.”
Meeting his gaze, I find courage I didn’t know I had. “I want you. All of you. Inside me. I need you to fuck me, Tyler.”
The words barely leave my lips before I lose Shadow’s fingers, and his cock is pushing inside me.
“Fuck me, Della, you feel so damn good,” Shadow growls, sinking deeper, filling me.
His fullness stretches me perfectly, a delicious burning sensation that has me gasping for air. My nails dig into his back as he stills, letting me adjust to his size.
“You okay?” he asks, the rough gravel tone in his voice causes a tremor between my legs. “Fuck, tell me you’re good.”
