Flirting With Disaster (Camelot 3)

“Enough,” she said. “Come here, for crying out loud. I want you.”

Sean was on his hands and knees above her, and her calves dangled off the foot of the bed. When he caught sight of her frustrated expression, an unexpected smile broke his composure, lighting up his whole face. Funny Sean again.

“You need me for something?” he asked. “I’m kind of busy.”

“Yes,” she said, running restless fingers down his stomach to claim her prize. Her free hand found purchase on a bicep taut from carrying his weight. “You going to make me beg?”

“That was the idea.”

“Don’t you have needs to satisfy?” she asked, accentuating her question with the movement of her fist along his rigid length. “I’m not a completely selfish person. What do you like?”

He knocked her hand loose, captured her fingers, and raised her arm above her head, bringing the other up to meet it.

“You.”

This time, when he lowered his head to kiss her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, lifted her hips against his straining cock, and begged with her body as his tongue penetrated her mouth, explicit and obscene.

“Now,” she said, wriggling against him until he was positioned at her entrance, nudging her open. “Now.” With a sneaky upward thrust, she took in a few beautiful inches.

Sean swore and pulled out, rolling to one side and reaching for the condoms he’d dropped on the bed.

“Hurry,” she warned.

“Or what?” Paper tore, and Sean directed his attention downward.

“Or I start to bite.”

Then he was looming over her again, smiling that wicked smile. “Promise?”

She’d never been a biter, but then she’d never been a thrasher or a moaner before Sean, either. “You’ll have to drive me to it,” she said.

His only answer was that confident one-dimpled smirk.

He pushed her knees up, spread her wide, and watched her face as he began to move inside her with short, shallow thrusts, each one a little deeper and a little better than the last. His pupils dilated. His jaw tightened. His breath came rough and ragged as he claimed her without apology, his movements just this side of too rough, until the entire thick, hard length of him was pulsing inside her and he closed his eyes and said, “Oh, ffuck.”

Katie cupped his face in her hand, amazed how different it was to be able to see him. How different he was tonight than he’d been in the SUV.

Tight and edgy. Hurting.

“Sean?” She stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, her hips already rocking, trying to take him deeper even as she stretched to accommodate him. He was big. Big, and so unbelievably hard.

Restless and greedy for more, she circled her pelvis. Sean grabbed her thigh with one huge hand and said, “Don’t.”

Katie moaned and disobeyed.

“Please, d-don’t,” he said. “You’re so tight. Jesus, I c-can’t—”

“Move,” she demanded, pushing her hips hard up into his. “Now.”

“Damn it.”

She felt the moment when he lost it, and it sent a thrill straight through her, a blue electric blaze of forbiddenness. One hand buried itself under her ass, the other braced against the headboard behind her, and he breathed hard and thrust into her, finding a fast, fierce rhythm that was exactly what she needed from him.

They were supposed to be nothing more than partners with good chemistry. Consenting adults having a good time together. Sean was her inadvisable man, her torrid urge. A whim.

But it wasn’t like that at all. Her craving for him rose with every blunt stroke, no anonymous biological thing. No whim.

It was Sean.