Thrill Seeker (Sinful in Seattle) - Page 12

The head of his cock was wet. I used it to twist and stroke down his length and around his head. He dragged my hand away and hoisted me up into his arms and turned toward the car. I yelped and wrapped my legs around his hips for purchase.

His jet-colored eyes were so dark and that danger was lurking again. He pinned me against the side of the car. The muscle in his jaw jumped when I went for his pants. He braceleted my wrist and transferred my hand to the cool metal edge of the hood. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it behind me, then lifted me effortlessly and placed me on top of it.

I grabbed onto his arms. The muscles there were so ropey and solid.

God, what was I doing?

He flipped out his wallet beside us and attacked my neck, then breasts as he fumbled with the other hand.

Surely my eyes were rolling into the back of my head. The roughness of his evening scruff and his ruthless mouth left fire in its wake. “Multi-tasking?” I managed to ask.

“It’s what I do,” he said against my nipple before he rolled it into his mouth.

I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to survive this.

The crinkle of the condom wrapper seemed so loud all of a sudden. I looked around the garage, shocked to see it still empty. It felt like we’d been at each other forever. My sense of time and space had closed in until there was nothing but Max.

And now things felt so huge and my head throbbed as reality intruded. Then I looked down at the dark purple head of his cock and stopped him. “One last touch before you cover it.”

His irises were blown out, and shadows warred with the little shafts of light from above. Angles and darkness, madness and passion. We had gone from safe, polite small talk to this. My garments ripped, his mouth wet from mine, my thighs burning with stubble burn from his jawline. And my clit still pounded like he was the kick drum in my own personal song.

Constant.

Aware.

Necessary.

I swiped up the curved length to where his fingers hovered over the head with the condom. I closed my hand over his and pulled it down. Latex covered the tight skin, down over the engorged shaft, until he pulsed in my hand.

Did he know my pain?

His jawline certainly said so.

I brought my hand up to his face and watched him as he stepped forward into my sphere again. The madness returned, and the garage faded away. It was just me and Max.

This moment we’d been fighting to find through the shadows and the polite chitchat.

And God, I was afraid.

Afraid that it would be too good.

4

Max

Her taste was in my head, swirling over every taste bud, every corner of my mouth, every inch of my lips. And now she was spread out on my suit jacket. The silky lining puddled around her ass and hips. I pulled her forward, widened her thighs to take my hips.

Even before I painted the tip of my cock along the wettest part of her, I wanted her legs around me again. I raked my fingers down the backs of her thighs and raised her knees until she hooked them around me.

We were directly under the light now. Every curve and dip was on display for me. I tipped her back and she fell onto her elbows. She leaned back on her forearms and looked up at me, her eyes smudged from the mugger’s attack. From my attack.

I’d been ruthless.

Once I’d gotten her taste inside me, it had been more than I could handle.

Even now, the urge to fuck her was monstrous.

Because it wasn’t easy and sweet. No, what she dragged out of me here was primal. I was no hero. I should have brought her home. Should have soothed her with a cup of tea or huge glass of wine.

Tags: Taryn Quinn Erotic
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