Leaning in, he scattered a frenzy of kisses against my collarbone, dipped down across my breastbone, and then plunged lower still to give love to the area between my breasts. Tugging the neckline of my shirt down to give him better access, he growled in tangible frustration and yanked the shirt up and off, throwing it to the side.
My nipples were pert beneath the indigo lace of my bra, straining to be freed. He pushed his pelvis against mine, pressing me back into the door, and rubbed his thumbs across the buds. I moaned as if we were already deep in the throes of passion, and I didn’t give a flying fuck about holding back ... in any way. After the shit we’d endured the last few days—heck, even weeks—I was in no mood to restrain myself.
He ground his hips against mine, squeezing a breast in either hand while continuing to flick my nipples with his thumbs.
With a moan I reached between us and undid the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down carefully, relishing the way his hardness strained against the material. When his pants were open, I reached in and we both let loose the mother of all groans.
Hmm, moving in with him was seeming like a mighty fine idea right about now. Brock for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Yes please. Maybe I could even have him for dessert...
While I wrapped my hand around his length, he attempted to tug my pants down without breaking contact. Snapping my leg out, I kicked off my boots and managed to wiggle my pants down, stepping on the hems to get them off me.
When I stood before him in nothing but scraps of lace, he breathed deeply, trailing heavy-lidded eyes across my body. I gave him a firm tug and his eyes rolled back for a second. “You...” he attempted. “You undo me.”
I wasn’t fully certain what he meant by that, but I was pretty sure he undid me too.
He dipped his head low to flick his tongue across my nipples. They strained through the lace, the moisture of his tongue imbuing me with near desperation for better access. Arching my back, I tilted my head back against the door, rocking my hips back and forth.
Damn.
The downside of moving in together would be that I’d never want to leave this room.
Then, without warning, he slipped out of my grip and took three steps backward—three steps too many. I experienced the absence of his body against mine like a burst of arctic cold and a shiver ran the length of my body.
But then his gaze was like an open flame licking my skin as he scanned the length of me.
“You’re so amazing,” he said, his voice husky. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I liked to think I wasn’t prideful, and that compliments didn’t do much to my healthy sense of self-confidence, but I basked in his appreciation despite myself.
“I can’t believe...” He shook his head. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
A flush crept across my cheeks, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was due to his praise. He was one fine man, and he was all but naked in front of me. I ogled him without bothering to hide what I was doing.
A grin that promised mischief and pleasure—so much pleasure—consumed his face.
In quick movements, he freed himself of his boots, pants, and boxers. And then I really got to ogle. His body was all strong, virile man. Mmm, my favorite flavor.
Brock closed the distance between us and swept me up into his arms, cradling me against his bare chest while he stalked toward the bed.
He was about to throw me onto it when I shook my head as a bit of awareness came over me. “No, not on the bed. I have apollyon gunk on me.” It’d mostly gotten on my clothes, but even after hosing off, surely there was something gross on me. Not that Brock looked like he cared one bit. If he gave me another twenty seconds, I probably wouldn’t care anymore either.
“Fine,” he said, and pivoted toward the bathroom. He leaned me against the counter while he turned on the shower. Then he was pressed between my spread legs, and even scraps of lace were burdensome.
A groan rumbled in his throat as he pressed another kiss against my flushed lips and unclasped my bra. I swallowed and arched my back, offering my breasts to him. He didn’t disappoint, and by the time he’d pressed both of them together and run his tongue across both nipples enough times to make me lose my mind, it was I and not he who slid my thong down to pool on the floor at my feet.
His eyes flashed a bright amber yellow as he took both of my hands and led me into the shower. The water was hot, and as he lathered soap between his bare palms and proceeded to soap me up everywhere that mattered, the temperature rocketed.
I couldn’t take it anymore, and from the way the wolf reared in his gaze, I could tell he couldn’t either.
Still, he managed to put me first. He sat on the tile seat in his shower, away from the direct spray as the water rinsed the soap from my body. Then he spread his legs and beckoned me to climb aboard the pleasure train.
He didn’t need to suggest it twice. I took what he offered and didn’t hold back when ecstasy pushed at my senses until it rolled through me in shockwaves that left me gasping and panting, digging my fingers into his shoulders.
I gave as good as I took, and by the time the hot water began to cool, we’d familiarized ourselves with every nook and angle of his shower. My legs were so wobbly they barely held me.
Brock toweled me off with a gentleness that suggested love instead of passion, then carried me back out into the room, again cradled against his chest. When he deposited me on the bed and wrapped his body around me, I decided heaven was actually to be found on Earth.
“So, you want to move in with me?” He planted a soft whisper of a kiss right beneath my ear. I didn’t have it in me to resist anything he asked of me and I realized I did want to move in with him.
