Flash Burned (Burned 2)

I parted my thighs just as his fingers whisked over my slick folds, a feathery sensation meant to tease and tantalize. My hips rose greedily as I offered myself to him.

“Dane,” I whispered.

His emerald irises glowed seductively. “I think about this, too,” he mused as he stroked me slowly. “How wet you get for me.”

The pads of two fingers moved in a leisurely, circular motion against my clit as he stared into my eyes. The intensity of his gaze heightened my arousal.

The sweeping blades of the ceiling fan overhead sent a slight breeze skating over my skin, but it didn’t cool me down. My internal temperature flared. A fire burned through my veins.

I wanted Dane to make love to me, but I couldn’t break the eye contact, couldn’t say anything that would cause him to deviate from the excitement he evoked with his masterful touch. My hips rolled with his sensuous rhythm. Everything in my head and all the danger and drama melted away as he maintained the eye contact and gradually picked up the pace between my legs, turning the leisurely stroking into a quicker fluttering that made my breath catch.

“You’re going to make me come,” I said on a heavy breath.

“That’s the plan.”

“So easily. You barely even touch me.…”

“I’ll touch you more, then.” Two fingers eased into me, filling me.

“Oh, God.” My eyelids drooped, then closed. I let the feeling of him massaging my inner walls, pushing deep, stroking slow and sexy, consume me.

“Ari,” he whispered against my cheek before kissing it tenderly. “All I want in the world is to make you happy.”

The corners of my mouth quivered. A smile that competed with emotion. “You do.”

His thumb rubbed my clit as his fingers pumped expertly, with just the right tempo, the right pressure. Lowering his head again, he flicked his tongue over my nipple, then sucked hard as his fingers drove deep.

Everything inside me erupted and I cried out his name, coming on a powerful release that raged through me. My fingers tightened around his hair. The other hand gripped his biceps, my nails digging in.

“Oh, God,” I whimpered as the sensations flamed over my skin, ignited in my belly.

Dane let out a low growl as I clutched his fingers inside me, my hips still raised as I savored every second of the fiery orgasm.

“Ari,” he whispered against my neck. “You make me so crazed with wanting you.”

“Then fuck me. Dane, now. Please.”

I’d always needed him in a dark, frenzied sort of way. That need had grown into a relentless, insistent ache that made me desperate for him. Especially when I’d suffered weeks without him.

His fingers withdrew from me and he flipped me onto my stomach. Over my shoulder, I watched as he yanked the top button of his pants and shoved the zipper down, then pushed the material—along with his boxer-briefs—to his hips.

He thrust into me from behind, making me cry out from sheer pleasure.

His hand sought mine, our fingers twining above my head. My free hand curled around the comforter while he pumped solidly and fantastically into me.

“Oh, yes,” I said in a throaty moan. “Just like that. Fuck me hard.”

I could tell his need mirrored mine. He plunged deep with quick, full strokes.

His ridged abs pressed to my back. His chest sealed against my shoulder blades. With his head bent to mine, he whispered, “Tell me you know that everything I do is for you—for us.”

I knew instinctively he spoke of the indictments. “Of course, Dane.”

“Because I wouldn’t be away from you for a second, wouldn’t give up having you every night of my life. Forever. If it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Imperative.”

“You don’t have to justify, Dane. Just fuck me.”

I wanted him that much. Conversation, rationale, nothing mattered. Just him, inside me.