My breath hitched when his mouth closed over my other nipple, tongue circling, sucking with just enough pull to make my toes curl. My back arched off the mattress, pressing me closer to him.
“Brooks . . .” His name came out broken, a pleaanda curse.
He groaned low in his chest, the vibration sparking through me, then moved back to the other breast, lavishing the same slow attention until I was writhing beneath him. His hand splayed across my belly, thumb brushing along the small curve that cradled our daughter while his mouth dragged me higher and higher.
“Fuck, Dani. You’re so perfect like this,” he rasped against my skin. “Soft, sweet, swollen with my baby. These tits—”
He nipped my nipple lightly with his teeth and I nearly screamed.
“—are mine now.”
Something snapped in him then. The patience, the care, the restraint—it all went up in flames. He pushed up onto his knees and stripped off his T-shirt. I barely had time to take in the hard lines of his torso, the tattoos spanning his arms and neck, and the light dusting of hair that disappeared into his waistband before his mouth was on mine again, his hand cupping the back of my neck.
We both reached for the buckle of his belt, shoving at his jeans and boxer briefs. Finally, he kicked them the rest of the way off and climbed over me, pressing me into the mattress.
But this time, it was my turn.
Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was the weeks of pent-up wanting, but I wasn’t about to let him think he had all the control.
“I want to be on top,” I demanded, pushing at his shoulders until he sat up. I shoved him back against the pillows, the surprise in his eyes only fanning the fire in my chest. His cock was throbbing, leaking against my thigh, and I wrapped my hand around him with a deliberate squeeze.
“Dani—” he groaned, head lolling back.
“You and that perfect cock of yours broke me, Brooks.” I swung a leg over him, straddling his hips. “Nothing else will do—my fingers, my vibrator, my favorite alien tentacle dildo.”
“Your what?”
“None of them are good enough. I need your cock.”
“Fuck, kitten.”
I rocked forward, letting him glide through the slickness between my thighs, teasing the head of his cock over my clit. He grunted, his hands coming up to palm my bare ass. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
I smiled against his lips and reached back to stroke him again. He was so thick and long, his length spanning the width of my palm.
I wanted him inside me.
Now.
With another rock of my hips, he notched himself at my entrance, and my breath caught. We both watched, transfixed, as I lowered myself onto him. There was no suppressing my moan when he slipped inside, one inch at a time.
Slowly, so slowly, I rolled my hips and rose up, feeling every inch of him drag against my walls. I sank back down, taking him deeper this time. His hands flew to my hips, fingers biting into my skin hard enough to bruise.
My next tattoo, maybe?
“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes blown wide when my walls clenched around his length. “What were you just thinking about that made your pussy squeeze me like that?”
I bit my lip. “My next tattoo.”
His brows pinched together.
“Your fingermarks on my thighs.”
I didn't think his eyes could get any darker, but they did. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and brought my mouth to his, kissing me like a man possessed.
It was hard and fast and filthy, the kind of kiss that stole my breath and my soulandmade me forget my own name.
I bit my lip, rolling my hips in a slow, deliberate circle. “You like that?”
