Taming Cross (Love Inc 2)

I tug my mouth away from his and run my fingers through his hair. “I wish I had been there for you. I hate to think of you alone.”

“I’m not alone right now.”

His lips and tongue find mine, and we are lost again; the sum of us is skin and teeth and tongues. My greedy fingers find the button of his jeans and he is in my shirt, tearing the blouse, moving my bra, taking my breasts into his mouth.

I’m breathing so hard I’m nearly screaming when he moves off me, grabbing something from the ground beside us and rising up over my head. I see a flicker of blue eyes between his arms and he says, “Move, Merri.”

I scramble up and hear the sound of breaking glass. Holy shit. He broke one of the glass panes on the door. He starts to stick his right arm through, and I yelp, “No!”

With a quick glance around me—there are only trees—I pull my shirt off and he wraps it around his arm before he reaches through the broken pane. He leans up a little and I watch his ass tighten through the sagging jeans as he works with the lock. The door swings open, and Cross grins.

“Come on, woman.”

We’re tangled up again the moment we crawl up on a bed. Cross’s mouth is magic, making the little cottage bedroom spin, tracing down my belly. I’m pulling on his hair, stroking his neck. I’m breathing hard and tugging down his jeans.

“Fuck, Merri.”

Cross is lying on his side; we pull his jeans off together: one of his hands, both of mine, and I am stunned to see he’s naked underneath. Mother Mary, he’s so big and beautiful; just the sight of him makes me ache between my legs.

I push him gently back against the pillows and climb on top of him. I kiss his neck and stroke his thighs, and he groans, “Damn. Oh…damn.”

He finds my lips with his and tugs at the top of my leggings.

“I’ll help you.”

But he’s managed to get the leggings to my knees, and now he’s stroking his fingers gently along the borders of my thong. I’m so wet I can barely straddle him without grinding my hips against his dick.

“I’ll get these pants off.” I draw away from him and pull them off, grateful for a chance to catch my breath. I’m too caught up in this. I feel like a teenager. For a second, as I pull the cottony leggings over my ankles, I think about being on my knees those other times, but then Cross leans up and strips off my thong.

He lays me on the pillows and crawls on top of me. He splays his right hand on my thigh, then walks it inward. When his fingers touch me there, I gasp. He smiles the sweetest little smile down on me. “You’re beautiful,” he says. He strokes me one more time. “Is this okay?”

I nod, and his head is lowering over me. I feel one finger glide inside and then his lips touch me. Oh God, his tongue. I’m warm and slick down there and he is stroking me. Stroking inside, lapping outside. It isn’t long before I’m shaking violently, pressing my knees around his head and gasping his name.

His finger inside me is exquisite, stroking me just right, while his tongue glides down my center, teasing my most sensitive place, pushing me closer and closer to the edge till I can’t breathe. I grab his left shoulder, sinking my nails into the muscle there. He licks me from top to bottom, curling his finger inside me, whispering, “God you’re sexy,” and it’s his voice that does it: low and hoarse, it vibrates through me, sending me just over the edge.

As I shatter into pieces, I can hear him laughing. I hear him mutter, “Jesus Christ, that’s sexy” and I can’t believe I just did that with him. I can’t believe how not weird it feels.

I draw my knees together, expecting to feel spent. Then I open my eyes, and there is Cross sitting, shirtless, on his knees with an enormous hard-on jutting up toward his beautiful abs. I look into his face, that face I’ve come to love so much, and his eyes are gleaming and I know—I know for sure—that I want to take this further.

“Cross, come here.”

He palms himself, looking heavy-lidded and slightly predatory. His voice is soft, though; gentle. “You don’t have to. It’s not a trade.”

I scramble up and clasp his left wrist. “I know, you crazy man. But I still want you.”

This time it’s me easing him down. I help him settle on the pillows, never breaking his hypnotic gaze as he settles on his back, with more weight on his left side than the right. I’m shaking as I situate myself between his legs.