Page 29 of Shielding His Heart
I swallow hard. “I want you to kiss me.”
The stool scrapes against the ground as he jerks mine closer to him. “I got that. But I’m pretty sure you said you want more than a kiss.” I’m so hot I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. He nudges my knees farther apart with his. My hips ache, and I’m trembling.
“Uh-huh,” is all I can get out.
“Or is it that you want me to kiss you here?” His hand presses over my sex. The thin silk shorts I’m wearing may as well be nonexistent. I’m afraid he can feel how wet I am beneath the material, but then he’s kissing me.
A muffled sound is all I get out before the heat of his mouth seals over mine. Any protest I have is silenced by the thrust of his tongue. I go lax, melting against his hard body. A punch of heat hits me directly in the center of my belly, and I can’t help the moan that slips from my lips. Damn my body. It wants him with a reckless abandon my mind simply can’t comprehend.
He kisses me like I’m a craving he’ll never satisfy. A thirst he’ll never quench.
I could stop him. I know if I pushed hard enough, he’d move away, but the longer he kisses me, the harder it is to remember why we should stop.
I’m sure my lips are red and sore when he pulls back to whisper, “I bet you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, sweet pea?” His fingers trace the thin material covering me. “Dripping.”
All I can do is whimper. The ability for rational speech and thought has fled completely. No matter how much I know I should pull away from him and tell him he’s not in the right frame of mind, the words simply won’t form. This scenario is all kinds of wrong. Neither of us is thinking clearly.
Maybe that’s what makes it right.
I’m tired of fighting with myself, with him. With my past or lack thereof. Tired of resisting.
I thread my fingers through his hair and use the grip on his skull to pull his lips back to mine.
What’s left of his meager control snaps, and I get tossed on top of the counter, his big hands gripping my hips and canting them to cradle him between my thighs. The way he grinds his thick, hard erection against my clit has my fingers dropping to his shoulders to dig in, no doubt causing bruises underneath my grasp.
All I can think about, all I want, is to feel him inside me. There’s an empty aching need to be filled. I’m mindless with it.
He breaks the kiss to growl, “Does that pretty pink pussy need me inside it?”
My eyes roll straight the hell into the back of my head. Sweet, kind, thoughtful Alec, who knows how to do pigtails and saves lives for a living, has a filthy, sinful mouth. He whispers those dirty words in my ear as he rocks his hips in a steady rhythm against me. Never quite fast enough to bring me to the edge, but enough of a tease that it drives me insane.
I’m afraid to open my mouth because I know I won’t be able to stop begging if I do. He chuckles darkly, the scent of the bourbon giving me a heady high. Nipping at my lips, he says, “You don’t have to answer. I can practically smell you already. I bet you’re so sweet for me, aren’t you? My dirty, sweet little angel. Do you want me to put my mouth on it?”
If I could climb inside him, I would. I can’t seem to get close enough. He chuckles again and puts a hand to my throat, gliding it between my breasts. “Shhh, I’ll take care of you. Lift your ass so I can lick you good.”
He’s a beautiful, filthy man with a wicked mouth.
I do as I’m told, and in five seconds flat, he has my silk shorts stripped off and my legs straight over his shoulders. I expect him to build up to it, tease me, but Alec spreads me wide with his fingers, baring it all to him, and buries his tongue deep inside.
“Oh fuck,” I moan and clutch at his hair.
His big hands cup my ass cheeks and pull me closer. I don’t know how the hell he’s breathing, but he doesn’t seem to care one way or another.
Then he’s looking up at me and thrusting deep with his tongue. The sounds he’s making fill my ears in a filthy cadence I don’t think I’ll ever forget, and it’s that connection that sends me tipping over the edge. His rumble of approval has me biting down a scream. His hands clutch my trembling thighs, holding me close against his wicked tongue as I see stars.
CHAPTER15
TANA
Aloud, childish shriek has me bolting upright and immediately regretting the action. Flopping onto my back, I press a hand to my throbbing head and wince at the sunlight streaming in the window. I crack open an eyelid when my brain doesn’t feel like it’s being trampled by a herd of angry wildebeests.
The first thing I notice is that I’m not in my room.
What the fuck.
The second thing I notice is that I’m not alone.
What the fuck.
