Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

I groaned as my cock hardened, more than agreeing with her request.

My hands dropped to her ass, and I easily lifted her slight weight. Her legs wrapped around my waist as her arms did the same around my neck. Without breaking the kiss, I walked us back toward the bar, then pivoted so my back hit the swinging door, sending it sailing into the kitchen as we crossed the threshold.

I lifted my head just long enough to see the open expanse of stainless steel that occupied the center of the kitchen. Three steps later, I had Echo on the counter while I stroked the curve of her waist.

Our eyes met in a clash of need and desire. I’d never wanted anyone like this before in my life, never wanted to drown in a pair of eyes like I did Echo’s. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Those turquoise eyes flared, and she pulled my mouth back to hers, her nails biting little marks into my neck that somehow sharpened the pleasure of kissing her. Our tongues tangled, stroked, and demanded as we gave in to the pull between us. Her hips rocked forward, meeting the hard length of my cock, and she gasped, but still didn’t pull away.

Instead, one of her hands dropped to my belt loop, and she tugged me closer.

Fuck me, any closer and I’d be peeling off her jeans and finding out if she tasted just as sweet everywhere else. The thought alone made me groan.

I tore my lips from hers, then set my mouth to her neck.

She arched harder against me and exhaled on a hiss. “Good God.”

“Sawyer,” I corrected her before biting the little section of skin where her neck met her shoulders.

She moaned, pressing her breasts against my chest. Her nipples were so hard I felt them through the velvet of her tank top and my shirt. My mouth slid back to hers in a long, drugging kiss as my hand slipped to her breast, rubbing her nipple against my palm before gently cupping her.

Fuck, she filled my hand perfectly.

She fit me perfectly.

Her taste, her light vanilla scent, her quick little breaths, they were all...perfect.

She matched me kiss for kiss, leaving me with no doubt that we weren’t just compatible, we were combustible.

Her hand at my belt slid under my shirt, and her fingertips traced the line of my abs, following the outer indent from the bottom of my rib cage down to where it deepened and disappeared into my pants. Then I was the one hissing, my cock straining against the tight confines of my jeans.

Her hand moved to the front of my jeans and she cupped my dick, squeezing me lightly. Pleasure shot through me like lightning, branching out to affect every limb, every cell in my body. “Echo,” I groaned, leaning into her touch.

“Damn,” she whispered, her hand measuring me from base to tip through the denim.

I grinned with pure masculine pride at her appreciation. Then my hand slid under the stretchy velvet fabric of her tank top and then her bra. Her bare nipple rubbed against my palm, and I squeezed her lightly once. “Damn,” I repeated.

Echo laughed, and my heart tripped over itself as she pulled me back to her mouth. Fuck that was sexy. I’d tested my limits in college with all the cliché shit star athletes did. I’d taken plenty of girls to bed and even had a few monogamous relationships. But I’d never been with someone I could laugh with in the middle of making out and not have it ruin the mood.

Fuck, I wasn’t sure even a bucket of ice would break the thrall she had me in. Most likely I’d pick up a cube and drag it down her body until she was begging me to replace it with my mouth.

She nipped lightly at my lower lip, and I gave into the playful nature of the kiss, lightly feathering her nipple with my fingers over and over, teasing but not giving her what she so obviously needed.

“Sawyer,” she whimpered against my lips, arching to press her breast into my hand.

“I could kiss you forever,” I admitted as I took her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and gently rolled the bud, then pinched.

She cried out and squeezed my cock in her hand. Then her body started rolling against mine, and I knew how easy it would be to get her off. Her body was practically humming with sweet tension, and her breaths only came faster as I gave the same treatment to her other breast.

“Fuck, I want to touch you,” I growled as my thumb toyed with the button on her jeans.

“Yeah?” she asked, her eyes hazy with need, the color burning even brighter. Her nails raked down my back, bringing every nerve ending to life, and she didn’t need to flex the other one to remind me where it was—my dick was well aware. “And what would you do with me?” she dared.