Page 33 of The Cold Ride

Then he slammed the door shut with his boot, not stopping until he reached the bed with its floral bedspread totally not in keeping with the tone.

He lowered me onto the edge of the bed. I reached beneath his shirt to his criminally rock-hard abs. His skin was smooth and warm to the touch, branding my skin with the flames. James disconnected his mouth, much to my chagrin, and I whimpered at being denied. But he rose to his full height. His eyes were black with dark lust that engaged a resounding ache in my belly. He did that manly, single-handed, over-the-shoulder removal of his shirt. Did men do it on purpose? Did they know that having a guy do that practically made our panties disintegrate?

But after the shirt was removed, I stared, my mouth rounded on a gasp. Because Jesus H. Christ, he was ripped.

Since we were together last time, he had piled on muscles. And there were new scars. I scowled at what looked like a knife wound on his side.

Nothing more than a moth entranced by a flame, my fingers grazed his abs in wonder. Sliding my fingertips over the firm ridges, I committed his body to memory. Because I had no idea what the future would bring. And I wanted to remember this moment. My gaze dipped, and I swallowed a moan at the enormous bulge pressing against his jeans.

My hands sought the clasp and lowered the zipper. He threaded his fingers in my hair and tilted my head back until our gazes clashed.

“Make sure this is what you want. Because we go any further, I doubt I will be able to stop,” he warned in a husky tone that shivered through me.

Nothing could drag me away from him and this moment.

In response, I shoved his jeans down over his lean hips and muscular thighs, cataloging every scar and promising if he let me, I would kiss each one. And with my gaze trained on his face, I dipped my fingers beneath the waistband of his black boxer briefs, circling his thick cock and slightly squeezing.

He thrust into my hand as ecstasy etched itself over his features.

With an impassioned snarl, James reached down and yanked my top off, tossing the garment behind him without a care for where it landed. He could rip it to shreds for all I cared about it.

And then we attacked each other’s clothing as our lips met in a hungry clash. We fought and tugged, removing every stitch of clothing until we were naked and panting.

I reached for him, needing him more than I had ever needed anyone.

But he knelt and yanked my hips to the edge. I moaned as he spread my thighs to fit his broad shoulders.

On edge. Desperate. Aching.

And then his tongue flicked over my clit. The pleasure bowed my back. And he gave my pussy slow, thorough licks as he savored me.

Our initial torrid rush morphed. James gave my pussy long, slow kisses that left me writhing and gasping for more. My fingers threaded into his dark hair and gripped tight while I ground my pussy against his lips.

“Please,” I panted.

James lifted his mouth and scowled. “I’ve been waiting ten damn years to taste your sweet pussy. And I’m going to take my time and fucking enjoy it. Just lay back and let me love you. You’ll come when I want you to and not a moment before.”

His dominance poured fire into my veins. Why did I think his overbearing attitude was so hot? What was wrong with me? My body purred, melting under his control.

He resumed his thorough licking. Pleasure spiraled through my veins. He lapped at my pussy as if it were his favorite dessert. Time ceased to have any meaning.

I writhed, quaking with need. I yanked at his head, needing surcease. But I didn’t budge the guy. His mouth sucked at my clit until I almost levitated off the bed. And my attempts to move him didn’t so much as shift him an inch because the guy was a wall of solid muscle.

I uttered my demand. “Fuck me, James.”

He rose and stood between my thighs. All six solid feet of battle-hardened warrior. His face dripped with carnal hunger, and I almost came on the spot.

Oh god, what was he waiting on? A sign from above? The second coming?

I snarled because I had waited far too long. This moment was ten years in the making. And I refused to wait another second. I gripped his length and pressed the tip against my slick opening. My pussy was soaked and so primed, the head slid right inside.

James held still as a statue. His gaze dipped to where we were joined. His cock spread me obscenely. “Fuck, that’s a beautiful sight.”

Gripping my thighs, he plowed inside with such ferocity it bowed my back. He’d buried his cock so deep I felt him in my soul. And god, the way he stretched me. It’d been a hot minute, and there was a sharp slice of pain combined with the pleasure. I fucking loved it.

My mouth dropped open on a throaty moan that echoed in the bedroom.

“Fuck. Fuck! Look at me,” he demanded with a passionate grumble.

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