Slashed (Extreme Risk 3)

She shakes her head, says, “No, no, no” to every compliment I pay her, but now her breath is coming in a series of hot little pants that have nothing to do with panic. Her hands are tugging at my hair, her legs wrapped tight around my waist and all I can think is don’t lose it, don’t lose it, DON’TLOSEIT. Not yet. Not when I haven’t gotten her there yet.

But already I’m close, so close. Already I want nothing more than to bury myself inside her and feel her clench around me when I come.

With that thought in mind, I rip her shirt over her head. Slam her back against the wall. Swallow her cries as her bare skin hits the cold wall and she arches against me.

“I think you’re sexy as fuck,” I tell her, kissing my way down her neck to the hollow of her throat. It’s ridiculous how hot I find this little patch of her—then again, I find everything about Cam sexy. Especially the little clusters of freckles that dance across the edges of her collarbone. And the little mole on the outer curve of her left breast. And the soft pink of her nipples.

Fuck, I even think the scar she has on her shoulder is sexy. She got it when she tangled with a tree a couple years ago and ended up with a dislocated shoulder among other injuries. But the way she’d handled it—the way she’d been so chill and collected had been a turn-on in itself. As had the way she let me take care of her when she never lets anyone do that.

“Everything about you makes me hot,” I whisper against her skin. She moans a little, rocks her hips against mine and I see fucking stars at the feel of her pussy—warm and wet and welcoming—against the hard ridge of my cock. In self-defense, I grab her hip, press more firmly against her in a last-ditch attempt to hold her still as I continue to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and across her shoulder.

“The way your skin turns pink when you’re turned on.” I lick across the curve of first one breast and then the other.

“The way your nipples always harden before I even touch them.” I take one in my mouth, suck hard enough to have her gasping out my name.

“The broken, breathy sounds you make when you want me inside you.” I bite down gently, then lave my tongue around her areola as she lets loose with the sounds I just described.

“The way your hands rake down my back when I touch your pussy.” I slip a hand inside her sweats and circle her clit with my thumb.

She cries out then, a loud, desperate sound that has my dick leaking pre-cum and every nerve ending in my body standing on end.

I do it again, reveling in the way her hands clutch at my shoulders.

At the way her head rocks back and forth against the wall.

At the way her legs tighten around my hips and her fingernails dig into my skin as she begs, “Please, please, please.”

“Just looking at you makes me harder than I’ve ever been. And being inside you—” I thrust against the very heart of her at the same time I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger. “Being inside you makes me—”

I break off as she comes, her arms and legs and hands tightening around me as she brokenly calls my name.

“Fuck, Cam.” I keep my thumb on her clit, working her through it even as I slip two fingers inside of her because there is nothing, nothing, that I love more than the way she clenches around me. The way her body holds onto a part of me like she never, never wants to let it go.

I hold her there, pressed against the wall, until the tremors stop.

Until her breathing returns to normal and she sleepily opens her eyes.

Until she smiles at me and reaches a still shaking hand up to cup my cheek.

“You okay?” I ask her, pressing a kiss to the soft, tender spot where her shoulder meets her neck.

“More than okay.” She rocks her hips against me. Once, twice. Then again and again, until it’s all I can do to keep from coming in my pants like a fucking fourteen-year-old. “But you didn’t—”

I slam my mouth down on hers, cut her off with a kiss. Because if I hear her say the word come right now, there’s no way I’m going to keep it together. No way I’m not going to pull her sweats down and shove myself inside her. No way I’m not going to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her, until neither one of us can breathe, let alone stand and talk and funct

ion.

She kisses me back, bites at my lip, thrusts her tongue deep in my mouth to tangle with mine. I groan, try to step back so that she can slide to the floor—and I can die of sexual frustration. But it’s already been a good fifteen minutes since her stylist left. The last thing I want is them walking in on us while we’re making love.

Except as I try to lower her back to the ground, Cam gasps, “No!” And then her hands are fumbling with my belt, her fingers unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans.

“Cam—” It’s all I can say, all I can think, as her hand closes around my rock hard dick. Cam, Cam, Cam—

“Fuck me, Luc. Please.”

Her voice is breathless, her eyes pleading as she starts to jack me off, her thumb rubbing back and forth over my tip. I’m so turned on and I know if I leave her to it—if I let her keep doing this for much longer—I’m going to blow like a fucking teenager with his first girl. Then again, when I was a teenager I’d wanted nothing more than for Cam to be my first girl.

My only girl.