Page 64 of Tinder Embrace
He grinned, the pleasure in his expression turning him from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous. The crinkles around his eyes and the way they lit from within, coupled with his strong, white teeth, gave me shivers. Davis’s smile really should be registered as a concealed weapon. I squirmed, pressing my hips into his, his smile making me rethink my stance on rough play. Davis’s smile could turn me on just as effectively as a tight grip.
“How about ‘beast’?”
I blinked, lost in his eyes. It took a moment to register what he meant.
“You want me to call you ‘beast’?” I asked, trying it out.
He nodded. “If I’m doing something that works for you.”
“Davis, youdefinitelywork for me,” I breathed, grazing his mouth with mine. “And I’m not shy about expressing myself.”
“Is that a promise?” he asked, his deep rumble sending a shot of desire straight between my legs.
I arched into him, shoving my breasts toward his face, moaning my pleasure.
Davis pushed his hips forward, driving toward the softness at the apex of my thighs. Eagerly, I stripped out of my top, wanting him to paint my breasts with his tongue, wringing every ounce of pleasure and sensation from me possible. I squirmed against him, greedily rubbing against the bulge in his jeans.
He snapped the band of my bra, the momentary sting barely enough to pull me from my lust-driven haze. “Not so fast, Bee. I’ve got plans for you.”
He gripped the back of my neck in one strong hand, holding my gaze as he unsnapped my bra with his free hand, leaving me bare above the waist.
He pinched one nipple gently, head cocked as he waited for my response.
“More,” I said urgently, rocking against his hips with impatience, the bulge of his own arousal only egging me on.
He cupped one breast in his palm, maintaining his hold on my neck, as if he had any chance of holding me still. I couldn’t help the keeningneed that kept me pulsing against him, trying to get whatever satisfaction I could from the light friction.
Davis licked along the arch of my breast, sending shudders of sensation washing through me. He worshipped at my breasts, alternately tweaking and soothing each nipple with his tongue. The hint of stubble on his chin abraded gently as he sought my neck and nipped at the tendon there. Pleasure-pain rocked me, drawing my muscles tighter in anticipation.
Davis’s powerful hands held me captive to his desires. Unrelenting. Strong. Exactly where I wanted to be. I whimpered, distraught when he paused his gentle torture.
“Beast me,” I commanded.
I was already naked to the waist. Davis propped me on my feet, making short work of my zipper, shucking my jeans and underwear down my thighs and encouraging me to kick them away until I was gloriously naked under his gaze.
The cocky glint in his eyes and the fresh vulnerability I felt, bare to him, sent a fresh wave of shudders along my spine. His expression held a raw need that drew me more surely than anything on earth.
Davis smacked his palms over my flanks, sending an electric pulse between my thighs. “I love how raw you are for me, Bee. Did you know I can smell you? Smell how aroused you are for me? It’s the sweetest perfume.” He urged my legs apart and tested my damp opening with a gentle thumb.
It was all I could do not to push into his face, smother him with my need. I bit my lip around a moan when he stopped, leaving me aching.
“So sweet,” he murmured, watching me as he swiped his thumb between his lips.
He surged to his feet, lifting me over one brawny shoulder. I hung upside down, my thighs clamped beneath his arm as he strode toward the bedroom. I half-expected him to toss me on the bed so he could strip unencumbered, but he let me slide down his chest, dragging over every inch of him.
“Take off my clothes,” he grumbled, the low growl of command in his voice sending me into overdrive to do his bidding.
I tugged off his shirt, skating my palms over the tanned skin the cotton had hidden. Davis pulled us chest to chest, capturing my mouth in a punishing kiss.
His body heat nearly scorched me, leaving a trail of fire everywhere we touched. He kneaded my ass, and whether by design or accident, his rough ministrations ground my flesh against the front of his jeans, making me dizzy with sensation.
“Off,” I urged in between kisses, greedy for his skin.
“I changed my mind. Later,” he murmured, boosting me up in his arms, his palms wrapped around the back of my thighs holding me open to him.
Davis dropped me to the bed, following down to dive between my spread thighs. He slid his tongue along my slit in one luxurious lick, and I whimpered, eyes closed. Slick and full, I ached for more.
He rummaged in the bedside table, and before I could fully understand, he dripped a line of lubricant along the apex of my thighs, mixing my wetness with the lube in a cocktail of lush readiness. Stroking, testing me.
