The Hotter You Burn (The Original Heartbreakers 2)

His fingers curled more firmly around her nape. “Kiss me,” he croaked, and she knew he yearned for her to do it. “Kiss me and never stop.”

“Yes.” She pushed his underwear down, freeing the rest of him, then leaned forward and liiicked the tip.

He shuddered, his fingers combing through her hair, fisting the strands. She licked again and again before swallowing him down, as far as she could go.

A hoarse groan left him. “That’s the way, baby. Just like that.”

Lifting her head, she said throatily, “I’ve never done this before. Tell me if I do something you don’t like.”

“If you’re doing it, I’ll like it.” He traced his fingertips over the rise of her cheek, his features infinitely tender. “Take me down again and let your tongue ride the underside, then suck me hard on your way back up.”

She did as instructed and drew a deeper groan from him. Emboldened, she did it again and again, quickening her pace.

“Doing so good, baby. Making me so hot.”

His groans became increasingly ragged...until all he could do was pant, the air growing heavy with his arousal, and her own. His reactions caused a passion fever to burn through her. But he fit her chin between the curve of his fingers and thumb, slowly lifting her head.

“I’m not done,” she said.

“That keeps up, and I will be. Lie back.”

* * *

BECK HADN’T BEEN with a woman he actually knew in—ever. He hadn’t realized the tender feelings he’d already had for Harlow would add shocking depth to the experience, a layer of awareness he couldn’t deny he relished.

She eased onto the mattress, her luscious body open and vulnerable to him. “Beck...”

The purr of her voice did things to him. Maybe because he knew she didn’t always sound that way. Maybe because he knew no one else had ever made her feel so needy, that he alone possessed the power to tempt her.

And she alone possessed the power to unman him.

He kicked off his shoes, stepped out of his jeans and underwear and crawled over her, peering down at her, drinking in the languid desire he saw shining in her heavy-lidded eyes.

She ran her hands, those smooth, elegant hands, up his arms, and the touch meant more than any that had come before, affecting him deeper than skin, blood and bone. He trembled under that touch.

“Second thoughts?” she said, a bit unsure.

“Never.” Sweat trickled from his temple, dripped on her lovely shoulder. “It’s been a while for me, and I want this to be perfect for you.”

Her smile was pure sweetness, like sunlight in the middle of a raging storm. “It’s with you. It’s perfect.”

She meant that. He knew she meant that. He trusted her in a way he’d never trusted another.

“But,” she said, nibbling on her bottom lip, “what did you mean by ‘a while’?”

He fed her the gentlest kiss he was able, one of reverence as much as passion—passion he barely kept banked. “I mean since the day after I met you.”

When she gasped, he could hold off no longer. He kissed her again, letting all that passion loose at long last. Her tongue sparred with his, not just accepting his aggression but returning it. He got lost in the kiss, thrilled in it as it swept him away and consumed him. He didn’t have to worry that she would want too much from him. He’d already offered everything. He didn’t have to watch the clock or wonder how he’d make his escape when the deed was done. He was right where he wanted to be with the only woman he wanted to be with.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked breathily. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Just keep breathing, baby.”

* * *

AS TURNED ON as Harlow was, aching as if she’d never known a single moment of satisfaction, she expected to burst into flames. But hearing those words—Just keep breathing, baby—she almost burst into tears.

Had any man ever pleased a woman as much as Beck pleased her?

He opened the upper drawer of his nightstand and set one, two, three condoms on top.

“Um, perhaps you’re overestimating my stamina,” she said.

“Or you’re underestimating mine.” He kissed and licked his way to her breasts, paying extra attention to her scars, kissing them all better. He sucked one nipple, then the other, switching again and again until she was writhing.

“Let’s see how much you liked having your mouth on me, shall we?” He thrust a finger inside her. “Oh, baby. You liked it. A lot.”

“I really did.” She circled his wrist, holding his hand where it was. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“I’d die first. But you need something else inside you, and I’m going to give it to you.”

“Yesss. Yes. Please.”

“Grab the headboard.”

She obeyed, closing her hands around the wrought iron, and with his hips he nudged her knees farther apart. Farther. Farther still. She attempted to wrap her legs around him, but he was having none of that and spread her as wide as she could go.

“I want to see you,” he said. “I have to see you. All of you.”

Cool air brushed against her most intimate parts, and she shivered. Slowly, languidly, he looked at her, and like that, the rest of the world ceased to exist. They were the only two people alive; it was the sweetest agony she’d ever known.

He returned his finger, then added another. She was stretched, burned, but not enough. She needed more, needed him. Always him.