Page 103 of Tasting Fire
No gentle love song kiss. But a full-on heavy metal I-want-inside-you tongue fest.
All the want and desperation and fucking fear poured from his mouth to hers. He understood her desire to bite and mark. Something, anything to stake a claim that could not be erased.
Even as he ravaged her mouth, Emmy stroked a tender hand over his hair. It didn’t soothe the pounding need inside him. She loved him.
But…
He drew back from her mouth, panted out his sudden realization. “My wallet’s inside the house.”
Emmy smiled—right into his eyes—and lifted his palm off her butt to kiss it and curl it directly between her legs. A spot so soft and hot that Cash’s brain blinked off. “Remember,” she said. “Clean and on birth control.”
“Thank Christ. Same here. Well, not the birth control, but…”
“Cash,” she said, stopping his rambling. “Love me.”
He pressed against her hip and she leaned back on her hands, giving him access to all the places he wanted to touch, mark, claim.
Love.
He needed to show her. Now. He manhandled his fly and pushed down his jeans and boxers.
She watched him with a heavy-lidded smile as he opened her wider and pushed himself inside.
“Do you hear it?” he panted out.
Emmy blinked. “What?”
“Angels singing.”
Her low laugh was the sexiest, sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He bent over her and looked directly into her eyes.
No hiding. No holding back.
“I love you, Emmy. I want you. And I want to build a life with you.” Jesus, if he’d ever been this vulnerable, this open, he couldn’t remember it. Even his botched proposal hadn’t made him feel this exposed.
“Then maybe we can talk about ditching the birth control sometime soon.”
Such a practical exchange shouldn’t be this sexy, but it electrified Cash, made his dick harder, made him hotter. “Full discussion on that later,” he said. “For now…”
He withdrew and slid home again, into the center of her loving heat. Emmy moaned and arched her back, offering up her breasts. Cash took one nipple between his teeth and gently bit down until Emmy’s hips jerked against him.
A sob tore from her throat as she tried to get closer to him, pull him deeper inside her body. Tried to take what she needed. What he would give her.
Cash gripped her hips and drove into her with a singleminded rhythm that had his heart booming to escape his chest. The sheer emotion in her eyes drew him to her, and he took her mouth with the same intensity as he was taking her body.
Sweet and pretty it wasn’t. It was a desperate desire. A natural need. A passionate plea.
It was so incredible that Cash found it hard to keep their rhythm steady. And when Emmy dragged her lips from his, gasping for breath and saying, “Cash, please. I’m… please,” he gave up the pretense of control.
Her body squeezed around him, pulling, pleading, needing. Her eyes went wide and unseeing with her orgasm. Her heart called out to his.
And Cash let himself trust. Allowed himself to free-fall for Emmy McKay.
