Fading Out (Living Heartwood 3) - Page 54

A trembling breath steals past her lips, and she says, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission I need.

It’s like a play being called; I’m spurred into motion by her soft assent, then my mouth is covering hers, stealing her breath, coveting her mouth. My fingers curl into the fabric of her thermal, and I pull her to me. As she winds an arm around my neck, she releases a low moan, and it vibrates through my chest.

Absentmindedly, I reach over and shut the laptop and push it aside. Then my hands are back on her, grabbing her thigh and dragging it over me, my whole body lit with yearning.

She turns her head to the side, gasping for air and breaking us apart. “Wait,” she pants. But I’m too far-gone. After confining myself for an entire week, trying to give her the space she apparently needed, I cannot rein in my need for her one second longer.

I move to her neck, kissing a blistering trail along her throat to her ear, and whisper, “Don’t fight us.”

This does not have the desired affect I’m aiming for. Ari pulls away and forces herself up. She turns away from me and faces the wall, her shoulders trembling with her heavy breaths. “God, Ryder. Why do you have to be so…you.”

Bringing myself into a sitting position behind her, I laugh. She groans. “Sorry, but is that the best you can do?” I run my hand along her arm, feeling the shiver my touch sends through her. “I know I’m…how did you put it? Crass. But I’m working on that. And I’m sick of pretending that last weekend didn’t mean anything.”

She shakes her head. “It can’t.”

Anger seizes my chest. I come up behind her, dro

pping my forearms on either side of her head and caging her in with my body. Her hands flatten along the wall, her body absorbing the impact of mine as I press against her. Lowering my mouth to her neck, I nip at her skin, taking in the sweet scent of her, running the length of my rock-hard erection along her ass. Letting her feel how badly she affects me—how much I want her, us.

“It did happen,” I say. “And you want me just as badly as I crave you, Ari.” I remove one arm from the wall and grasp her thigh. I pull her harder against me and yank the skirt up. The pad of my thumb skims over her underwear. A shudder nearly cripples me at the feel of her wetness dampening the material. Her heat radiating out against my hand. “Shit…you’re so wet for me. Say it’s all for me, Ari.”

A soft cry wrenches from her mouth, and her hips rock, grinding her ass against my cock and her pussy along my fingers. She turns her head to the side and bites down on my arm, eliciting a guttural roar from me. But the sharp pain only quickens my need, heating my blood.

“It’s all for you,” she breathes out. “But it’s going to kill me when I have to give you up.”

Her admission spears me. Through the lust-filled haze, an image surfaces: the charity event, her father’s disapproving glare. Then another invades my mind: her being courted by rich, powerful men that will try to buy her—to own her. I bite down hard on my lip and taste the metallic sting of blood, hating that I can’t change my roots. It’s the fear that’s steered me away from leaping my whole life; I’m not good enough.

That fear seizes me whole, making me desperate to lay claim to her. Pushing her underwear aside, I slide a finger between her folds, feeling her tightness clench around me. Her loud gasp reverberates through my whole body. I continue to caress her warm, slick flesh, working another finger inside, as she rocks against me. I only want to hear her whispered pleas for more, or cries of pleasure. Not her fears or doubts.

“I’m going to make love to you, over and over, until I’ve driven that stupid thought far the fuck away.” The words are ripped from my mouth in a carnal vow. Then I’m driving deeper inside her, forcing her so hard against me it’s painful, the friction against my dick.

Not giving her the chance to dispute my claim, I release her only long enough to use my knees to spread her legs farther apart, then I’m on my back, beneath her, tearing her pink panties apart at the hip. They give easily with a snap.

“Ryder…?”

But her breathy sentence is cut short as I lower her down on top of me and take her in my mouth. I wanted to taste her so badly at the beach—I wanted to do everything to her body; see, taste, touch—but she took that shit from me that night. She came on strong and drove me to the brink, where all I could do was give her what she demanded.

Now, I want to tease the pleasure out; make it last, slow and long, till she’s peaked. Then bring her there again and again. It’s completely selfish. Because I want to be the one she thinks of when she’s turned on—the best she’s ever had.

Cocky or not, I’m going to satisfy Ari until I’m the only thought left in her pretty little head.

Her thighs quiver beneath my grasp as I swirl my tongue around her slit and then suck hard once, making her hands find purchase against the wall. As I move one hand over to insert a finger, she loses balance and grabs my hair.

“I can’t… You have to be inside me. Now.”

Her plea is so fucking sexy, I’m more than tempted. But I’m too focused on making her mine to give in, and push farther into her, massaging her throbbing center as my tongue hits the sensitive spot of her clit that’s making her thighs tremble.

As her hips rock, her body guiding my movements, demanding release, I clasp her around her waist. My cock is thick and hard and straining achingly against my jeans. But she’s so close; I can feel the need thrumming through her body with every swirl of my tongue, every caress of my fingers—then she tenses, and a rush of adrenaline goes right to my cock.

She moans out my name, and her walls clench around my fingers as a violent shiver takes her body. I push my fingers in farther and work the throb until she’s breaking around me, her heavy breaths heightening my need for her.

When she bucks her hips against the aftershocks of her orgasm, I pull her down on top of me, wrapping my arms around her damp body. She reaches up and removes the band from her hair, letting her destroyed ponytail free. Her scent fills my nose as her hair falls around my face.

She moves to run her hand along my chest, working her way down…but I clasp it still on my stomach. “I need a minute,” I say. If I don’t calm down, I’m going to fuck her hard and raw. I’m so attuned to her, so turned on, that I’ll just relinquish all control—and I need some level of it right now. The night at the beach leveled me; I can’t lay myself out on the altar like that again.

She raises her head and catches my gaze, a knowing look pulling at the corners of her mouth. Then, as if she wants to just pull the trigger and kill me now, she brushes her lips against mine, tasting herself on me. And I’m through.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Living Heartwood Romance
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