Page 139 of Wildest Dreams

“Yeah,” I admit, questioning the hell out of my logic. It was meant to be romantic but now I’m thinking it was stupid.

But she just smiles brighter, both her dimples popping, and I can’t stop myself from dropping down on top of her and working her tongue with mine.

“You’re a romantic,” she whispers, and I grunt as I kiss my way down her neck.

“For you, yeah.” I drop my forehead to her shoulder and wrap those skimpy bra straps around my fists. “How’d you even get in here?” I ask, panting against her throat as I give the lace another twist.

“I half-crawled through the edge of the trees,” she whispers, giggling wildly at my horrified expression. I pull back to inspect her knees and shove a hand through my hair when I realise that she wasn’t kidding. She obviously didn’t go on her hands and knees around the whole way but there’s small scuffs of dirt hereand there that have me thinking that she was pretty close to the ground.

I brush away a small scuff of dirt with my thumb while kissing gently at her inner thigh. “You didn’t have to do that for me,” I murmur.

“I thought you liked me on my hands and knees.”

I splay my palms on either side of her head and look her hard in the eyes. She flutters her lashes innocently up at me, only swallowing nervously when she feels my shaft flex against her belly.

I search her flaming eyes for a few long moments before wrapping one of my hands through the back of her hair, gently lowering my mouth to hers. I kiss her slow and deep, growling when she wraps her arms around the breadth of my shoulders.

“I do like you on your hands and knees,” I rasp, sliding my other hand beneath her back and gripping my fist around the fastening of her bra. “Did, uh…” I swallow hard. “Did you like that? When we did it before?”

“Yeah,” she whispers breathlessly and my shoulders swell on instinct, my digits twitching in the lace and accidentally yanking the closure open.

“Sorry,” I grunt quickly, as her bra slips slightly, now that it’s no longer strapped in place.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, gentle fingers holding my wrist when I try to push it back into place. “You don’t need to refasten it. You can take it off.”

“You sure?” I ask gruffly, and the second that she nods that shit is on the other side of the tent, exposing her breasts to me while I massage my palms around her waist.

“Jesus,” I murmur, hunching down so that I can taste them.

Her hands fly up to my nape, nails digging in as she pants shakily.

“Can’t believe that you snuck into my tent,” I rumble, tongue lapping faster against her nipples. “You snuck into my tent so that I’d fuck you, didn’t you?”

She arches her neck back and teases, “What are you, a mind reader?”

I huff a laugh against her chest, sucking her roughly when she meets my eyes. Then I shove both of my palms underneath her breasts, pushing them up as I tower over her.

“God, you’re funny,” I murmur, smirking as I brush my thumbs over her nipples. “You drive me crazy, you know that? I get so hard when you give me that attitude.”

She tries to smother her pleased smile but after a couple of seconds she bursts into quiet laughter.

“There’s that beautiful smile,” I murmur, grinning as I take her lips with mine.

“You look like such a big shot when you’re wearing this cap,” she whispers, and I drop my face into her hair, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Thanks,” I deadpan, trying to keep the volume of my laughter down when I reach up to take the cap off.

“No, no,” she whispers quickly. “I didn’t mean that I didn’t like it. You look like a cocky hockey player but it’s, you know, not a bad thing.”

I blink down at her, unsure, hand still hovering at the brim.

“It’shot,” she whispers finally, cheeks flushing almost as dark as mine.

I frown slightly as I lower my hand, not sure if it’s disrespectful to fuck her when I’ve got a backwards baseball cap on my head. Then again, I’ve also got my jeans halfway down my thighs, so if she’s into the way it looks then I’m not about to deprive her of it.

I clear my throat quietly, eyes dropping to her breasts as I squeeze them.

“You sure you like that, baby?” I ask.

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