Chasing Desire (Chasing Love 3)

“Okay…” She bit his bottom lip. “Now.”

With that, he tunneled his hands in her hair and yanked her into the most consuming kiss she’d ever felt.

He plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she gasped, feeling a tiny bead of steel. He had his tongue pierced too? Another wonderful surprise.

Something else to add to tonight’s menu…

She kissed him back, and her hands explored his chest then went down to his belt. She yanked it undone, then started on the fly of his jeans. Before she could get them off, he hefted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them into the bedroom.

His mouth devoured her jaw and neck and bit along the neckline of her tank top. Her whole body sped up, her heart trying to keep up with the heat and need.

“You’re not being very fair, you know,” he growled against her breast, and then he nipped the cotton again. She sucked in a breath, loving the sting.

“Forgive me,” she said as she reached for the hem of her tank and lifted it over her head. She dropped it on the bedroom floor. His fingers dug into the back of her thighs as he ran his tongue—and that piercing—along the swell of her breast.

She was definitely going to see what that pierced tongue felt like all over her before the night was over.

“Still not technically fair,” he said, then bit down on her black bra.

A zing of heat stabbed at her. Just the simplest touch had her wet and ready.

“Well, I’ve always been a reasonable person,” she said, nibbling his earlobe while taking her bra off and tossing it next to her shirt.

A low growl came from him, and he sat down on the bed with her in his lap.

“Jesus, you’re perfect,” he said, and bent his head to taste her skin.

His words hit something in her chest. Perfect? Any other time and she’d be ready to call him on his bullshit, but the way he looked at her, with such brazen desire, she knew he meant what he’d said. They both needed a little relief tonight. Maybe, for as long as they were in bed, they were perfect for each other.

She leaned back so that she could get a good view of him. Even sitting, she could see all the ridges of muscle in his chest and stomach flexing. The man was a god, something she didn’t need to say since he likely heard it all the time. Inflating his ego would only give him more of an upper hand.

More?

When had she given the upper hand away?

Maybe it had been when his mouth landed on hers and swept away all the thoughts, good and bad, and took her to a place of pleasure and longing. Pleasure she liked just fine, but longing? That was treading dangerous water.

One night, she reminded herself. Getting lost was okay, just not too lost. She’d let him borrow control for a moment, but now it was time to get it back.

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards onto the bed.

“Stay still,” she repeated.

That time she really heard him growl, but he did as she asked.

She slowly unbuttoned her pants and slid them down. He leaned up just enough to watch her. She pulled the band from her hair. The long strands fell over her shoulders and tickled her nipples. Standing in nothing but black panties, she asked, “On or off?”

“Off,” he said, before she got the whole word out.

She grinned and slipped her panties down. He hissed in a breath and stared at her, that hot gaze going down her breasts, to her legs, and up again.

“Fucking. Perfection,” he said, and there was that word again. She was far from perfect. This man could clearly get any woman he wanted, the kind of woman that had bigger breasts, a more feminine demeanor, and a softer personality. Yet he looked at her and said the word that made her feel like enough. More than enough. He made her feel special.

Man, he was good. But she wouldn’t get caught up in the façade and pretty words. Sure, she may appear perfect now and, yeah, maybe she felt special, but that was just for the moment. Not reality. Soon as they were done, he’d ditch her or she’d leave. Either way, her worth had a shelf life. That was one fact she’d learned the hard way. Repeatedly.

Okay, enough with the feel-good-self-loathing moment. It was time to get down to business.

Sex.