Defender (Seattle Sharks 9)

“I’m not a virgin. I know what I’m asking.”

“Yeah, I’m not going there. I’m absolutely cool with you owning your sexuality, your body, and your pleasure, but the idea of some other guy putting his hands on you makes me irrationally ragey, so I’m just going to take the I know what I’m asking, part of that comment.”

Her breasts rose and fell rapidly. “What, you haven’t been with a ton of women?”

“I wouldn’t say a ton. I’m pretty damn discerning about who I take to bed.” Which would be her in about two seconds if I could just get her to stop being so fucking nervous and ask me for what she wanted. “Does that make you irrationally ragey?” I asked softly.

“Maybe.” She swallowed and looked away again.

“Just maybe?” I prodded.

“Okay, yes, it makes me ragey. What about it?” She challenged me with a look, daring me to call her on her nervousness.

“I didn’t want any of those other women like I want you,” I confessed. “They didn’t drive me crazy when they wore leggings. They didn’t make me jerk off in the shower while they slept on the other side of the wall just to keep myself under control. They didn’t have lips like these,” I ran my thumb over her lower lip. “Or eyes that took me to my knees.”

Her lips parted and her tongue swept across the tip of my thumb. “You’re better at seduction.”

“No. You’ve had me for months with none of this,” I nodded toward the room’s setup. “All I needed were four little words.”

“What are they?” She raked her teeth across my thumb, and I hissed.

I was going to make this so fucking good for her.

“If you really want to seduce me, then repeat after me. ‘Nathan, I want you.’” I whispered the words in her ear, then lightly caught it in my teeth.

She shivered. “That’s it? That’s really all I have to do?”

My lips grazed the spot where her chin met her neck, and she sagged against the wall. “That’s it. That’s all you’ve ever had to say, and I would have been yours to command, Harper.”

“And you’re sure you want this, too?” she questioned.

I took her hand and placed it on my rock-hard cock. “This has been my permanent situation for months, so yes, I want this, too. I want you.”

She sighed as I ran my mouth along her jawline, lightly caressing, but not offering her any more than that. She gently squeezed my dick, and I groaned as pleasure shot up my spine.

“Nathan, I want you,” she whispered, moving to grip my hips.

“Thank you, God,” I muttered.

I took her mouth like I owned it, pushing past her lips to rub my tongue with hers. Home. She tasted like home. She gave it right back to me, kissing me back with abandon, intoxicating me with her taste, her little whimpers.

I gripped her ass in my hands and lifted at the same time she brought her legs up to wrap them around my waist. I backed up a few steps until I felt the bed hit the back of my knees, and then I sat, bringing her knees back so she straddled me.

Our kiss grew harder, desperate, and I knew all my plans to take this slow were out the door when she rolled her hips over mine, blatantly riding my cock along the seam of her pussy.

“Harper,” I groaned, and she pulled back, grinning with feminine triumph.

“You’re so perfect. Almost inhuman,” she muttered as her hands traced the lines of my chest, then the muscles of my abs. Then she dropped before me and set her mouth to those same lines, licking and sucking her way down my torso.

Every kiss sent a shot of need through my veins until my very heart pumped for her.

When she flicked open the button on my pants, I stilled her hand. “You can play next time, butterfly. This time is mine.”

She looked confused for a moment until I yanked the jersey over her head. “That thing drove me fucking crazy all game long,” I told her between planting kisses along her collarbone. “Knowing you had my name on your back—God, I thought I was going to rip you out of the stand and fuck you in the locker room.”

“I would have been okay with that,” she said with a sigh as I moved to the swells of her incredible breasts.

I unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped, and pulled them down her legs until she stood in front of me in a frothy confection of matching, pale pink lace bra and boy-cut shorts.

I damn near swallowed my tongue.

“You like?” she asked.

“For the record, I don’t care what you wear as long as I can take it off you,” I told her as my hands stroked down her back to cup the globes of her ass. “But you look good enough to eat.”