Page 54 of This Wild Heart

“Take me to bed, Parker,” I whispered against his mouth. “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

His eyes were nearly black. “Are we pretending this is real? Am I pretending you’re mine?”

There was a thick beat of my heart, and I had to consider whether I could do this for a moment. Could I let this man—complicated and charming and deep and sexy—try to heal that part of me that was still a little bruised? Could I do that and keep my heart safe?

It was a risk. One that I was more than willing to take.

“Please,” I begged.

His kiss was punishing, with teeth and tongue and that hand wrapped around the back of my neck, his thumb under my jaw directing the angle of my head.

He removed his hand from my neck and boosted me up right under my ass, my legs wrapping immediately around his waist. I squeaked in surprise because I was no dainty little thing, but God, he carried me like I was. I clutched the back of his neck as he walked us around the corner and up the half flight of stairs to the bedroom across the hall from mine.

The light still streamed in through the windows, and thank fuck, because I wanted to see this man in the harsh light of day. I wanted every detail, something I could replay again and again and again. He set me down, his gaze heavy and unrelenting as he shucked the dress down off my shoulders. I stepped out of it, leaving me in nothing but my high-cut bikini underwear and my shoes.

He tilted his head, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he stared unabashedly at my body. “Fucking perfect,” he growled. “And this time? I’m not going to be a gentleman.”

I cupped him through his pants, the heavy weight of him delicious in my hands as his eyelids slammed shut and a groan tore from his throat. “Good. I don’t want one of those.”

Parker ripped my hand away, using his hands on my hips to steer me backward onto the bed until my knees hit the mattress. I shifted backward, chest heaving on sharp, hard breaths while he unhooked his belt and pushed his pants and boxer briefs down.

My throat went dry at the sight of his fully nude body, and I wasn’t proud to admit it, but I almost said something stupid and girlish like,how the bloody fuck is that going to fit inside my body?

Parker prowled over me, forcing me back onto the bed. He started with his lips skating over my ribs, quick, sharp bites and sucking kisses. He licked around my belly button and used one hand to press my breast up, his thumb working in tight circles over the bud before he sucked it into his mouth, dragging his tongue over in teasing little licks. My hips shifted restlessly, pulse racing higher and higher and higher.

Helpless sounds fell out of my mouth, and I tugged at his shoulders, wanting the relief of another hard, bruising kiss, but he stayed frustratingly out of reach, licking and sucking and kissing his way across my body. He kissed over the top of my underwear, chuckling against my skin when I made a frustrated growling noise.

“Parker,” I begged, my hands mapping the shift of muscles in his shoulders and back as he took his sweet fucking time.

He nipped at my hip bones, then dragged his nose along my ribs, between my breasts, resting his chin against my sternum as his gaze locked with mine. “You’ll give me one first.”

“No,” I said, firmly gripping his face and tugging him up toward me. He groaned as our lips met, as my tongue slipped and slid over his, as he tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth and sucked it into his mouth. “I’ve spent too many years waiting for something this good, and I swear, if you make me wait any longer, you’ll live to regret it.”

His smile was devastating. “Oh yeah, you’ve got me on my knees, all right. Is that what you want?”

If I’d stopped for any longer, if I’d let the months of frustration swamp me, if I let myself indulge the ways my spirit had been crushed, I would’ve burst into tears. But just for that moment, all I wanted was to feelgood. I wanted to feel beautiful and sexy and desired, and like it was inconceivable that he’d ever want someone else.

It was inconceivable to me that this feeling existed, that I could finally submit to it.

It wasn’t revenge, and it wasn’t for anyone else.

This was for me. And holy hell, I deserved it.

“What do you want, Parker?” I asked instead. “What do you want to do to me?”

I cradled his jaw, studying his face while he ducked his head down and sucked my breast into his mouth, sliding his tongue over the tip until it was wet and slippery. Then he ran his teeth where his tongue had been, and my back arched, my hands digging into his hair as I clutched his head so he couldn’t pull away.

Wordlessly, he moved to the other breast and licked a slow line underneath, sucking along the side. His hand slid up my thigh, fingers digging into my underwear as he started to tug them down my legs. When they were tangled around my knees, he sat up, eyes tracking over every inch of my body.

“What do I want to do?” he mused, dragging my panties down with the tips of his fingers until I could unhook one leg, and then the other. He tossed them onto the floor and pushed his palms along my inner thigh until my legs were spread on either side of his body. I waited for the flare of self-consciousness, and it never came. “Everything.” He slid two fingers between my legs and braced his weight on his elbow near my head. His mouth found mine in a voracious kiss, groaning into my mouth when he curled his fingers, the easy slide in and out because I was so stunningly ready for him. He broke away from the kiss, his forehead resting against mine. “Oh, I want to do everything. Will you let me?” He kissed me again, sweet and deep and slow, his fingers pushing in and out. I clutched at his wrist, afraid I’d explode just from that. “Will you let me, wife?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to snap at him for calling me that, to push his buttons like he so desperately liked to push mine, but the buck of my hips would’ve made a filthy little liar out of me.

Parker said I had him on his knees. It conjured a picture in my mind of a begging supplicant, someone worshipping a deity, someone begging for mercy where it might not be bestowed.

But I was going to bestow the hell out of this man. Whatever he was talented enough to pry from my body, which was coiled tight from days and days of walking this tightrope with him.

I wrapped my hand firmly around his hardness, and his eyes slammed shut. I ran my palm up over the tip and watched a gratifying shiver wrack his entire massive frame. “Show me,” I told him, a daring tilt to my chin. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

---