I swallow loudly, almost unable to talk. Gripping her hips, I slide her demandingly over me, saying darkly, “My degree’s in”—thrust—“fire management.” I arch my hips towards her again, throat tightening and need washing over me like the white water of Wild Horse Falls. “Which means I manage and sometimes even start control burns …”
“Thisis not going to be a control burn,” she whispers against the shell of my ear, feathering me with kisses. The heat of her mouth and the whisper-soft touch of her cherry-stained lips send tremors quaking through my core. I need her so fucking much. All I see is red. Hot, passionate, explosive.
“No, ma’am,” I agree, head dropping to her generous tits. She moans as I take one hardened nipple in my mouth through the fabric of her shirt and bra. “Okay, that shirt has to go,” I order.
She nods, a luxurious smile on her face as I fumble with the tiny buttons I’ve been dreaming about all week.
“Here,” she gasps. “Let me.” In one fluid movement, she pulls the shirt over her head, throwing it to the side as my hands come up to her lacy, dark pink bra.
My rough palms scratch greedily over the satiny, lacy fabric, appreciating the weight of her tits, teasing her hardened nipples with my thumbs. She gasps, moaning sensually.
I’ve hit the fucking lottery. She is perfection … just like I knew the first time I saw her in the tree.
I tease her with my mouth and tongue until the lace is damp, satin covered in dark wet spots. I catch her gaze with a brooding question. She answers, hunger and need spilling over in her eyes. Reaching behind her, I unfasten her bra in one fluid move, watching it slide slowly and teasingly into her lap.
“You’re quite good at that …”
“No, this is what I’m good at,” I counter, covering her gorgeous breasts with greedy caresses and kisses until I can’t take it anymore. I suck a rosy nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around her areola.
“Oh, God, yes,” she urges. My thumb and forefinger pinch her other nipple, rolling and twisting it until she screams my name. My cock strains against the zipper of my pants, ravenous to get in on the action.
“Where did you learn to do that?” she asks, head buried at the nape of my neck, covering me in kisses and delicate swipes of her tongue.
“Would you believe me if I said it was one of your books?” I pant.
“No, but I would like you to show me what youdidlearn in your reading this week.”
I groan, coming a little more undone with each taste, each touch, each demand of this impossibly sexy woman.
Pulling back, I say, “You are the most fucking gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I know you had concerns about me being from Hollywood”—kiss—“and all of that”—suck—“but you’re absolute perfection.” Bite.
She whimpers, arching towards me as I switch sides, hungrily devouring her other nipple. “And I want to spend the rest of tonight worshiping every inch of your sexy curves because you belong to me now?—”
Chapter
Thirteen
AMBROSE
Catalina tenses in my arms.
I lift my head, asking between fast-paced breaths, “Did I say too much?”
“No.” Tears pool in her eyes. “It’s just … I never thought I’d ever want to hear that from a man. I tried to convince myself I didn’t need one. But I need you so much, Ambrose. I can’t imagine living without you, and I don’t know when or how that happened.”
“I feel the same way,” I confess, stroking her flushed cheeks possessively.
“But then, the fire happened and the truck,” she inhales shakily. “And the thought of you not coming back to me … I couldn’t bear it.”
I stop, cradling her face and staring deeply into her eyes. “I willalwayscome back to you. I promise.”
The breath catches in her throat as she captures my lips, penetrating, possessing, claiming me as hers. With all the fierceness of her tree-climbing, dirt-bike riding, hockey days. Bold. Intoxicating. All I need in this world.
Breathing hard, I say, “Now, I want to show you with my fingers, tongue, and every part of me that you’re mine, mine, mine.”
“You forgot about your cock,” she rasps, smoky-voiced, sliding over my hard ridge.
“Oh, no, I didn’t. But that’s dessert.” My fingers trace her jawline as she trembles at my touch. “First, we focus on appetizers and the main course.”
