I peeled away the tatters of his shirt and cupped his bulging biceps, wishing I could twist his arm around to examine the tattoos there. Curious, I wiggled up, leaning over him to try to see the words imprinted on his skin.
No mercy. June.
What did that mean?
I let out a startled squeak when he lifted up and closed his lips around my nipple. He said something against my flesh, but I couldn’t decipher it through the rolling waves of pleasure. Warm, wet suction surrounded me, his kisses erotic and hard, both. This wasn’t the fumbling breast play I’d experienced in the past.
He switched from one to the other, nipping my skin until it bloomed with the marks from his mouth. I caught my hand in his rain-damp hair, holding me to me, reveling in every rasp of his scruff and every lick. Each time he bit down on the tight peaks, the echo pounded in my clit. I was afraid to move, in case I’d gotten his stomach wet.
My nipples stood out ruby red when he finally eased back to the mattress, and I studied them, fascinated.
I reached up to pinch one, and he made a muffled noise in his throat, like he couldn’t breathe.
“No tattoos,” he said, sounding choked. “Your only marks are mine.”
Planting my hands on either side of his head, I searched for my nerve. I wanted him to kiss me. My lips…both sets. But I didn’t know how to ask. So I rubbed against him, fighting the urge to duck my head when he met my gaze, surrounded by the cage of my arms. My hair fell down to shield us, to block out the silvery glow from the rainy skylight. I was all he could see.
He filled my world.
Almost against my will, my hips started moving in slow circles. Dancing was second nature now, especially the provocative kind. Arching, I chased the thrill of grinding against his cock still encased in his jeans. He owed me this orgasm from the rough denim that rubbed between my thighs. I rocked harder, lost to my pursuit, the slapping rain outside the apartment barely matching the endless drumbeat in my head.
“Take me out,” he said, stopping me on the verge.
I panted, staring at him, not understanding.
“Take out my cock,” he said and I shook at the words, somehow realizing then what we were about to do.
I couldn’t use him for a quick hit of release. We’d have all the time to get it right.
This wasn’t just about me, and what I needed. He had needs too, and he’d make sure I would fulfill them.
I wanted to. So fucking badly.
Above his waistband, he had the numbers 5150 in navy ink. I traced those too, raising my eyes to his questioningly.
“Police code for crazy person on the loose.” He didn’t flinch. “Danger to the public, and to myself.”
I nearly laughed but the heaviness in his eyes stopped me. His expression went way past brooding to bruised. I couldn’t begin to guess at what lived behind those gorgeous, changeable eyes. One minute, they were dark blue and sparkling. The next, midnight black. Whatever he’d been through had altered his perception of himself, so I’d just have to show him who he was with me. While I learned too.
Bending my head, I pressed a kiss to the numbers, each one in turn. He hissed out a breath the lower I traveled on his body, finally unhitching his belt and undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. I tugged them and his boxer briefs down, helpless to mask my gasp at the sight of him bobbing free, slapping against his abs.
“Don’t look so shocked.” For the first time tonight, I heard amusement in his voice. Just a lazy hint of it. “You’ve had it inside you.”
Oh, shit, now I was blushing. Fire engine red, probably, to go with my hair. “It’s no big deal,” I said, shrugging as if I saw enormous cocks every day of my life.
Hard-boiled eggs, chopped carrots and penises. All good.
As soon as he spoke, the humor fell away. The mere mention reminded him all over again of what we’d been through.
We, not just me.
Throat tight, I stroked my finger up the center of his length, watching the veins ripple and bulge. At the head, I touched the bead of pre-cum forming there, catching the next before it trickled down. His breathing sped up, his massive chest lifting and falling while I followed the same path with my tongue, all the way down until I could hesitantly flick it over his sensitive sac. He hissed and his powerful arms flexed, reminding me I’d leashed the beast for now but it wouldn’t last for long.
I licked my way back up, taking just the head in my mouth while my hands learned him. Hot skin pulled tight over his thick shaft, and the slightest attention paid to the tip caused him to swell and shift in my grip. I had small hands, and he seemed to dwarf them, barely able to be contained. Just like the corded arms that bunched and twisted as he fought to remain still for my torture.
The heat in my core caused me to press my legs together, and he must’ve seen me because he swore. “If you’re going to torment me, you better get your ass up here so I can do the same.”
“What?” I asked, licking my lips.