The Girl and Her Ren (The Ribbon Duet 2) - Page 61

My legs automatically wrapped around his waist, our lips never unlocking as he toed off his boots, kicked them aside, and marched fully clothed toward the gurgle and chuckle of the river.

He licked me deep and clutched me strong, trading dry land for a water-world as if he outran echoes from our past and bravely stormed into our future.

“What are you doing?” I gasped when he continued walking. Water sucked at his socks, saturating his jeans. His steps became wades as we traded the shallows to a darkened pool where the current didn’t disrupt the crystal clarity of the surface.

Once there, he ducked to his knees and pulled me down into the cool, crisp embrace of the river.

His breath caught from the chill, a tiny rattle roughening his voice. “Making love to you.”

Somehow, it felt as if he bowed to me. Worshipping me all while his tongue said he planned to corrupt me with an evening of ecstasy.

The coolness of the running water stole the remainders of our breaths as it flowed between us, making our bodies tense. His eyes caught mine, hooded and heated as he grabbed my chin and pulled me back into a kiss.

I gasped into his mouth, shuddering from the sudden temperature change and the refreshing lick of liquid.

“You’re sopping wet,” I murmured, tilting my head as he kissed me deeper, and his fingers found their way into my hair.

“And you better be too,” he whispered, hot and dark. “Because I’m sure as shit hard.”

A lash of lust travelled from my heart to my core, tugging on strands and sensuality, preparing my body for whatever he wanted. “All you have to do is smile at me, Ren, and I’m wet.”

He attacked me with unbridled need. His kisses were pure velvet violence. “Don’t say things like that. I want this to last, not be over in seconds.”

“Then stop seducing me so well.”

We laughed together even as his hands stroked skin sore with cuts from last night’s war. His palms explored my back and spine, fisting handfuls of my ass as he yanked me forward and onto the straining erection in his jeans.

“Do you know how often I’ve stared at this?” His fingers kneaded me. “How I’d dream of seeing you naked and in my bed?” His lips parted wider over mine, directing the kiss from shallow hello to deep dance.

I moaned as he kissed me like all women wanted to be kissed—hungrily, fondly, passionately.

We kissed all night.

We kissed for a second.

And as we kissed, he rocked up into my bare core, his zipper as cold as the river, his hands holding me firm.

We were in perfect alignment for sex.

Pity he was still so encumbered.

Our thoughts vibrated to the same frequency—just like always—because he pushed me down his lap, giving him room for his hands to fumble at his belt.

“Let me.” I panted, partly from cold and mostly from need.

He clenched his jaw as I found his buckle and unthreaded the leather. I didn’t tease; I was just as starving as him. Popping his button and drawing down his zipper, my hand vanished into his boxers before he could push me away.

Steel-covered satin and sheer power. Holding Ren so intimately was like being given the keys to immortality.

His head fell back on a groan, nostrils flaring, hips rocking, granting me all the magic in the world.

“I’m always so damn close with you.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I gasped as his fingers trailed over my goose-pimpled thighs and dug into my flesh.

“Bad that I find you unbelievably gorgeous and can’t help how much I want you?” He kissed me with a twist of silk and softness. “Never.”

Rearing back a little, his arms criss-crossed as he grabbed his hem, and with eyes dripping with chocolate promise, yanked his sodden t-shirt over his head. With a grunt of strength, he tossed the wet material toward the shore.

“Thought you’d wash your clothes as well as yourself, huh?” I snickered as he gathered me to his hot, naked chest. His cock wedged against me, making both of us hiss in that deliciously depraved way.

“Everything about me is filthy, so yeah.” He smirked. “Just trying to cleanse myself from needing you so badly.”

“I don’t think the river will help with that.” I melted as he kissed me again, adding bruise upon bruise, rasp after rasp from all the other kisses we’d shared.

“I think you’re right.” Pushing me away, he ordered. “Go get the soap. Let’s see if that works.”

I swiped hair from my eyes, the ends floating in the water like kelp. “Now who’s being bossy?”

“Only because I want to stare at you while you get it.” His eyes glowed. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

Burning up from the desire between us that even the chilly river couldn’t douse, I turned and waded back to the shallows. Self-consciousness descended as water sluiced off me, preferring to stay with its friends than on my skin.

Tags: Pepper Winters The Ribbon Duet Romance
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