Wild Kisses (Wildwood 2) - Page 65

Before Trace could catch his breath, Avery had his cock in her mouth, and the first stroke of her tongue over his head shot a jolt of exquisite current through his whole body, making him jerk. She slowly slid him deep, and opened her throat to tuck his head into the tight space. The combination of heat, wetness, pressure, not to mention the sight of her on her knees with his cock down her throat, had to be the most delirious thrill ever.

But it wasn’t enough.

He combed his fingers through her hair and said, “Suck, baby.”

Her lashes fluttered, and her eyes met his. Her mouth closed around his cock with gentle suction, and the tantalizing sensation stole his breath. Made his mouth drop open. Made an animalistic sound grind from his chest. His eyes fell closed, but he forced them open to watch the sexiest sight ever—Avery watching him, watching her, suck his cock.

“Fuck that’s so good,” he rasped, rocking his hips back and dragging his length from the heat of her mouth.

Avery immediately understood his need. She closed her eyes, gripped his ass with one hand, and pulled him into her, taking his cock all the way to the base, then adding suction as she moved back.

“Goddamn.” His voice was as raw as his need. And as Avery went to work with the same single-minded determination she gave everything that mattered to her, Trace cupped her head with both hands, blown away by the way she used her mouth to bring him pleasure. His fingers clenched and released as his excitement mounted, tangling in her hair.

Her low moan of pleasure rumbled over him and made him realize just how close to the end of his control he’d slipped.

“Need more.” Trace drew his cock from between her lips, and leaned down to pulled her to her feet a with rough, “Need all of you.”

He reached behind her and hit the water controls, then lifted her into his arms. He grabbed his wallet on the way out, struggling to carry her to the bed while she was infusing him with wild, passionate, hungry kisses.

He braced one knee and one hand on the bed, lowering her to the fluffy white comforter, then dug a condom out of his wallet. “You look like an angel.”

She pushed herself upright, thighs wide and wrapped around his, and took the condom from his hand. She ripped the package and rolled on the condom, her touch making Trace flinch and his hands fist. Then she looked up at him, her gaze both hot and . . . a little uncertain. “I may look like an angel, but I want you to love me like the devil.”

Fire licked through his veins. His cock jumped, as if coming to attention. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, holding her gaze while he positioned the head of his cock against her slick softness. Then he lowered her slowly, reveling in every soft inch of penetration. Of passion. Of possession.

The emotions that passed through her eyes seemed to grab on to his heart and sink in. Lust, awe, pleasure . . . Her expression showed more emotions than he could read. But the one that tied knots in his chest was the one spreading over her beautiful face once he filled her completely—a look of bliss, of fulfillment. Of something Trace could only label as . . . acceptance? As if she, too, felt the overwhelming power between them and was acquiescing to his need to take ownership of her—for as long as that lasted.

His chest filled with a sudden and unexpected mix of emotions that both terrified and excited him. But he couldn’t think about those now. Not when his cock was buried in her wet heat. Not when her body belonged to him. Only him.

Trace pressed his forehead to hers, wrapped his arms low on her hips, and started to move with an overwhelming need to infuse her with pleasure. More pleasure than she’d ever known. More pleasure than she’d ever even believed possible. In some small corner of his mind, he was equating pleasure with longevity. As if he could provide enough sexual satisfaction to make up for all the other differences between them. As if giving her the best sex of her life would allow her to overlook the fact that he was an ex-con. As if physical pleasure alone could make her stay.

Trace shoved those irrational thoughts aside and purposely held her gaze as he moved slowly and thrust deep. Her every little gasp, every little chirp of surprised pleasure, thrilled him beyond reason. He let his hands roam, caressing her skin. Let his mouth travel, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck. He whispered her name but little more. They didn’t seem to need words to communicate this bond growing between them. He saw it in her eyes, tasted it in her kiss, felt it in her body. They were in sync. They were speaking on a deeper level than anything he’d ever known. And what he heard, body and soul, reached inside his chest and pulled hard.

As her pleasure rose, she tightened her arms around his neck and rocked her hips into his thrusts. The feel of her body undulating beneath his hands combined with the slam of pleasure with each thrust, was insanity inducing.

Soon his entire world, his entire existence became Avery and the sensual rock of her body, the feel of her pussy stroking and squeezing his cock, her quick breaths and moans of pleasure.

She leaned back, one arm still around his neck, and pressed the other to his thigh for leverage to lift her hips into his with more force. Her brow furrowed in that borderline-climax, pleasure-pain expression that ticked up the heat in Trace’s blood. He was already slick with sweat, but he pumped his hips harder, ridiculously pleased when her mouth dropped open and a sound of ecstasy floated from her chest.

“Yes, yes, yes . . .” she murmured.

“Do I feel good, Avery?”

Her eyes opened and fixed on his face, and she managed, “So good.” But her eyes said, Way more than good, and her head dropped back on an, “Oh God . . .”

Her climax loomed, urging Trace to push things into high gear. He pumped harder, deeper, faster, losing himself in their perfect rhythm and the rise of his own pleasure.

And when Avery’s head dropped back, her mouth open on a cry of release, her pussy tightening and gushing warmth over his cock, Trace let go, too, driving home for an orgasm that twisted every muscle and blew every brain cell. He pressed his face to her neck and breathed her in, surrounded himself in her skin and her scent to cement the moment in his memory as sensations rippled through his body, again and again.

When the orgasm released him, Trace’s muscles gave, and he rolled to the bed with Avery. He kept most of his weight on his forearms so he didn’t crush her while they caught their breath. But Trace’s mind wouldn’t start working properly again anytime soon. And he didn’t give a goddamn, because he planned on lying in this bed all night with her—no escape plan in sight.

And, God, he was still awed at this explosive chemistry. This was just so . . . “Fucking amazing.”

Her quick breaths bathed the skin of his chest, stuttering when she laughed softly. “So it’s not just me. This isn’t just wildly mind-blowing for me because I’m so inexperienced?”

Trace laughed and lifted his head from her shoulder to look down into her face. She was flushed and glowing, and the smile in her eyes made them sparkle in the moonlight. “No, baby. This is just that fucking amazing because of you and me, together.”

She stretched out and relaxed into the bed beneath her, and the smile she gifted Trace was like a lantern in the darkness, offering him all the light he’d ever need.

Tags: Skye Jordan Wildwood Romance
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