Winger (Seattle Sharks 3) - Page 19

A smirk shaped those glorious lips, and he claimed my mouth again before I could breathe. He held the back of my neck with one hand, and trailed the other down my arm, over my hip. He teased the waist of my leggings, smoothing his hand over my belly before slipping his hand beneath the band.

“Ohmhgod!” I moaned into his mouth when his hand touched my aching center. It’d been so damn long, and with Warren’s touch, every single inch of me clenched with need.

“Fuck,” he hissed against my lips. “You’re already so wet for me, woman.” He groaned. “God, I’ve missed this.” He emphasized the word by sliding a finger between my wetness, stroking me gently.

“More,” I demanded.

Gone was my fear.

My reasons for not doing this for so long.

Now all I was, all that I possessed…was want.

And the only thing I wanted was Warren Kinley.

He sucked my tongue into his mouth, silencing my plea as he slid one finger inside me, then two. I whimpered again from his entry, from the way he circled his thumb around my clit.

Teasing.

Torturing.

My fast and furious Shark that liked the slow burn in the bedroom.

Hot damn, the man knew my body better than I did.

Swirling tension mounted and coiled low in my belly, the spark already there, an entire month of sleeping a hallway apart making me ready to combust in an instant.

He rolled his fingers, pumping and stroking as he made love to me with his hand. I clenched hard around him, nipping at his lip as I moaned.

“You want this?” he growled the question. “Tell me you need this, Nine.”

“God, Warren. Yes,” I said, breathless, arching into his hand.

A puppet to her master.

“Say it.” He held me in trembling anticipation, right on the cusp of shattering.

“I need this,” I breathed. “Fuck me…I need you.”

“There she is,” he said, a mischievous smile on those damn kissable lips. He circled my clit one more time before pressing down while slanting his mouth over mine.

The combined pressure, kiss, and his fingers inside me sent me flying. Sparks shot up my spine, warm tingles exploding over my skin. The deepest breath shot from my lips, a wave of pure pleasure pulsing over my entire being.

Warren gently held me, kissing me softly, working me down as he slipped his fingers out of me.

He instantly sucked one into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he moaned. “That’s better than any brownie.”

My heart raced at the sight, at the lust churning in those eyes.

I wanted more.

I needed more despite just having a serving.

“Warren,” I said.

The timer beeped, jolting us both.

“Time to wrap them?” He asked, his breath still ragged.

“Fuck the brownies,” I said as I pulled them out and turned off the stove. “I want you.”

“Nine,” he growled. “I told you I was strong, but don’t play with me like that.”

“I’m serious, Warren. Please. Fuck me,” I said, almost too timid for the phrase.

His eyes flashed wide and hot and wanting. He pulled me to him, fingering my hair in one hand. “Is it safe?”

“Yes.” I sighed, nodding. “Married people do it all the time.”

“Are you sure? You want this? Me?”

I hated how unsure he sounded, how scared.

“Yes,” I said. “Warren, I haven’t wanted anyone else since you.”

He smirked, flicking his tongue over my lips.

I gripped his shoulders, clawing into the muscles, desperate to wrap my legs around him. The baby-belly wouldn’t allow for that. I groaned, needing him inside me so much I couldn’t think straight.

“Trust me?” He asked between my greedy kiss.

“Yes,” I moaned against his lips.

He spun me around, drawing my back flush against his chest. He smoothed a hand over my breasts that were heavy and tight, aching for his touch. His other hand glided over my belly before diving lower. He hooked his fingers in the band of my leggings and tugged them down.

My heart raced, thundering against my chest with pure need.

He ran his hand down my spine, gently folding me, my elbows on the counter.

“Fuck, yes,” I said as he slid my panties down.

A shiver rolled through his body, like my submission, my trust, turned him on.

A light tap on my bare ass sent a jolt of pleasure straight through my center. “I fucking love that dirty mouth of yours,” he growled. I heard the beautiful sound of a zipper before I felt him hot, hard, and bare behind me.

“Ohmygod,” I moaned when he teased my entrance with his tip. He’d reduced me to short, repetitive phrases.

Reduced me to pure sensation.

Nothing but heat and ache and sparks and need.

“I’ve wanted to get back inside you since the second I left.” His voice was primal, closer to the beast I knew, the gravely tone making me tremble with want.

He smoothed one hand over my hip, the other over my back until he tangled his fingers in my hair. He tugged gently, and I craned my head around to catch his gaze.

The man was glorious.

Towering behind me, I was completely at his mercy.

He could fuck me hard and rough or gentle and slow.

He would be completely in control.

The realization tightened my insides, a string that connected us going absolutely taut.

His hand on my hip moved, stroking the lines of my belly. “You’re mine,” he growled, and though his touch was gentle, his words were demanding.

“Yes,” I said, pushing back against where he tortured me.

Another rumble came from his chest.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I’m

yours,” I moaned as he slid into me an inch more. “Fuck, Warren. I’m yours. We’re yours.”

I was orbiting, totally on another planet with the way my body soared.

Each movement was a lit match.

Warren owned every sensation pulsing in my body, in my soul, and I was completely, utterly, his.

“Yours,” I said again, sighing.

“Fuck, woman,” he said and plunged inside me.

His full, hard length filled me so much I moaned.

Good God, I’d forgotten how big he was. How wonderful he felt inside me. How he seemed built for me specifically. Every single inch of him working to make me a weak, weeping, sighing, moaning, thing.

“Yes,” I said. “Oh, fucking hell, yes.”

“Nine,” he growled, running his hands over me until he gripped my hips. He controlled the pace, rocking into me slow but hard and oh-so-good. “You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed, pairing each word with a pump.

Every time he thrust, the head of his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside me, the one that made my eyes roll back in my head, and turned my muscles into a quivering mess. I clenched around him, unable to hold back another wave of pleasure as he held me on the cusp.

“Damn, woman,” he said, increasing his pace as I gripped him harder with my thighs.

“Yes,” I said. I didn’t know any other words. I was simply…feeling. “Warren,” I demanded.

He reached around, stroking my clit with the sweetest pressure.

“Come with me,” I demanded again.

“God damn,” he hissed as I clamped down, tightening as I coiled and uncoiled.

He pressed back with the same pressure on my clit, and I shattered.

My entire body shook from the waves of pleasure that crashed over me, against me, inside me. His length hardened as he found his release, and he folded his chest over my back, molding himself to me as he growled. The vibrations from his breathing, the heat from his body, the way I still pulsed around him, it all wove together into this absolutely perfect moment.

And I cried.

Not bawled, but tears rolled down my cheeks without me being able to stop them.

Somehow, Warren had touched me on every level possible.

Gentle yet strong.

Hard yet caring.

The man had given me everything.

As he held me, lightly tracing the lines of my belly, of the shell where our baby grew…I understood something with perfect, terrifying clarity.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Seattle Sharks Romance
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