Page 21 of Twist of Fated Mates
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur between a deep kiss, then a light one. “Don’t you?”
“I do when it’s you.”
Is there another secret hidden in those words? “Only me?”
“Only you.” He grabs my waist and tugs me flush against him. My cock presses against his, both of them trapped behind soft pants. In tandem, we groan for more.
I grab the hem of his shirt. “Naked.”
“Yes.” He lifts his arms so I can drag it off.
We make quick work of each other’s clothes, peeling damp, muddy layers off to reveal the smooth, clean skin beneath. Skin that feels divine sliding over mine, like cool silk bedding on a warm summer’s night.
I think about dragging him to bed, but when he closes his lips over my nipple, it turns out the couch is actually the perfect spot. In fact, I may never leave it. Especially when he—”Ooh”—tweaks one while sucking on the other. “Again.”
He obeys. I arch up to meet him, eager for every bit of contact.
The world melts. Nigel and I are all that’s left. His hands on my thighs, his breathy sighs in my ears, his scent on my tongue.
I run my palms over the muscles of his shoulders and squeeze. Strong in every way, my mate. My gaze journeys over the dip of his spine, the rise of his ass, the powerful curves of the backs of his thighs.
“Nigel. Mate me. I want you.”
“Want you more.” He bites my chest. No sharp teeth this time, no blood, just the teasing, dragging pressure of his jaws clamped on my flesh. Like a wolf, not a vampire, though clearly I enjoy both.
I spread my legs, Nigel nestles his hips between them, and we rock together, body to body. Heat burns a path down to my middle, tingling between us. I thrust my cock alongside his and yearn for more.
“Take me.” I writhe, parting my thighs wider, helping to shift him in place.
“Now? Don’t you need—” His finger traces my rim.
“I don’t. I’m good.” It’s not as if we haven’t been at it like bunnies off and on all day. I’m so ready I feel empty without him inside me. “Please.”
“Yes.”
The exquisite stretch and long, slow slide as he enters wrings a joyous cry from my throat. Above me, he watches, amber irises flaring around gleaming dark pupils. A beauty. My beauty. Exactly where he belongs.
He takes my hands in his and brings them overhead, pinning them to the cushion, leaving me stretched under him and greedy for more touches. More kisses. More of everything Nigel does to me.
Nigel thrusts. My breath hitches. It’s just rough enough to bring me close to the edge.
I drive my heels into the meat of his ass to urge him on. I want him wrecked, shameless in his desire for me, so desperate to come he couldn’t stop if the walls crashed in around us.
Seeing the need in the intensity of his gaze makes me even harder, cock throbbing where it’s pinned between our stomachs.
Nigel’s shallow pants puff against my neck, his weight pinning me to the couch as he drives his hips over and over.
His moan brushes my jaw, chest trembling on mine, his movements fast and jerky. A thrill zings through me. The triumph of knowing I got him there. Savoring his want of me. What I do to him.
I tangle my fingers in his long hair and draw his face to mine for a kiss. “Yes, love. Like that. More.”
“Charlie,” he gasps out my name, a boon to my ears. “My Charlie.”
“Yes, yours. Just for you.” I slip one hand free and slide it between us to pump my cock in time with his thrusts.
We’re not going to last.
He says my name over and over like a mantra, sending me from close to right fucking there with his worship. I give back all I have. “Nigel, Nigel, yes, there. Come with me. Nigel.”
