Runaway (Wolfes of Manhattan 3)

We kissed deeply, with desire and passion that had pent up within us the last couple days.

Our lips slid together, our teeth banged, our tongues tangled, and we each moaned, we each groaned, we each hummed into each other as if we were a drug the other craved.

Drugs.

No more coke for me. Matt was my drug. Something I needed now and would never be able to live without.

He undressed me slowly, only taking his lips from mine to gasp in a breath.

Soon I was naked except for my panties, he still fully clothed, standing next to the giant bed.

My heart thudded, and fear swept into me.

Las Vegas.

I’d been here before.

With…

I pushed it away. “No!” I screamed.

“Baby?”

I shook my head vehemently. “I don’t mean for you to stop. I was pushing an unwanted thought out of my head.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m so sure. I need you Matt. Please.” I unbuttoned his shirt and parted the two sides.

God, his chest. Muscled and fair, nearly hairless.

Matt was beautiful. I wouldn’t change a thing.

He went achingly slowly, and I knew why.

He was giving me a chance to change my mind. To say no.

Wasn’t going to happen.

Finally, he stood naked, his huge cock jutting out from the light brown triangle of curls. I sucked in a breath at the sight.

This was Matt.

Matt.

No one but Matt.

Matt, who I loved.

“Lie down, baby,” he said.

I obeyed and lay down on my back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his breath catching. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as you.” I stared at him, taking in every inch of his spectacular body, every piece of his beautiful soul.

Matteo Rossi was a man worth fighting for, and I would fight the good fight. I’d get over what my father had done to me so this man and I could have the life we deserved.

I’d start by banishing all thoughts of my past from my mind—at least for this beautiful moment.

Matt and I both deserved that.

He lay down next to me, at my side, and lightly trailed one hand over the swell of my breasts. My nipples responded immediately, hardening.

“So beautiful,” he said again, softly. “So damned beautiful.” He leaned over and sucked a nipple between his lips.

I gasped as a bomb nearly exploded between my legs. This was Matt. Matt who loved me. He loved my body, and because he did, I did.

No longer was my body something I detested.

I adored it as he adored it. This was what my body was made for. This and only this. All other crap I’d endured had been at someone else’s choosing and not mine.

This moment was my choice.

My moment.

My love.

He continued sucking my nipple. I threaded my fingers through his silky blond hair, the feeling against my skin so exquisite.

My whole body was in flames, especially that hidden part between my legs.

My pussy.

God, I needed him. In my pussy. Tongue, fingers, cock.

All of him.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please.”

He dropped the nipple from his lips. “Just tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll give you anything.”

And then I knew.

I wanted to suck his dick.

I wanted to do it because I wanted to do it. Not because he wanted it.

I would take the power, as he suggested.

And I would take that power to give the man I loved pleasure.

“I want to put my mouth on you,” I said, my voice low and breathless. “I want to touch every part of you with my lips and tongue, and I want to suck your cock.

“God,” he groaned. “Are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. Please. Let me do this for you. Let me do this for me.”

He rolled onto his back. “Tell me where you want me.”

“Right there is fine. So fine.” I rolled to my side and brushed my lips over his. “I love you so much, Matt.”

“I love you too, Riley. So fucking much.”

I kissed along his stubbly jawline, down his neck to his broad and muscled shoulder. His skin was warm beneath my lips. Warm beneath my exploring fingertips. I kissed his chest, following along the lines of the muscles and sinew, until I flicked my tongue over a coppery nipple.

It hardened beneath my lips, which turned me on even more.

He responded to me.

To my touch.

I continued my assault on his chest, moving toward his abdomen, sliding my tongue over each indentation of his sixpack. God, he was magnificent. And God, I loved him so much.

His triangle of curls beckoned, and I dived into them, inhaling his musky and masculine scent. I was a mere inch from his cock.

That beautiful cock, a shade darker than the rest of his fair skin, and darker still where blue veins marbled through it.

His head was a shiny knob, and a drop of fluid glistened at the tip.

I gathered my courage and licked it off as he shuddered beneath me.