If it was, I hoped he was prepared for me to dump entire buckets of paint on his fancy furniture. Anything to get him pissed off again.
A sheen of sweat broke out on my body as he tortured me with his lips, teeth, and hands. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he drew back, his eyes hooded and slightly glazed. Maybe I wasn’t the only one being tortured here.
“Fuck, Macks. I thought I remembered everything. You were always so sweet. So fucking perfect. But now? Jesus, I have to taste you.”
With no more warning than that, he dipped his head between my thighs, throwing my legs over his shoulders as his tongue slid through my folds.
“Oh God!” My loud cry echoed around the big kitchen as Walker’s tongue found my clit. He flicked, circled, and lapped at it until I was nothing more than a writhing pile of need.
“Come for me, Macks,” he muttered against my skin, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard it. “I need you to come for me now.”
I had never in my life come on command, but I’d never had a guy eat me out in a kitchen like I was a gourmet meal either.
Like a tether snapping, my release barreled through me. My legs clamped around Walker’s head as my whole body tensed, waves of pleasure pulling me under. I closed my eyes as white stars danced in my vision, and when I finally came down from the high, it felt like someone had replaced my bones with Jell-o.
“Holy…” I shook my head back and forth on the hard marble countertop. “That was…”
Walker smiled as he straightened, and there was something in this smile that was different. Something besides just the lustful confidence and cocky pride. Warmth. Tenderness, maybe? Like making me feel good was the best thing he’d ever done.
The hunger in his gaze returned when I finally mustered up the strength to sit back up, reaching for his shirt and tearing it open.
Hey, better late than never, right?
He chuckled as buttons skittered across the pristine floor of the kitchen, and I tugged my lip through my teeth as I took in the stunning sight of his bare chest. I’d seen it several times since our wedding day—more than I’d wanted to, actually, considering the sight made reason and self-control hard to maintain—but this was different. This wasn’t an accidental glance.
Tonight, I could touch as well as look.
So I did, pulling him closer so I could run my hands over the broad planes of his pecs, across the ridges of his abs, and down the little trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
His muscles tensed and his breath hitched as I reached for his belt buckle, and he grabbed out his wallet, pulling out a foil wrapped condom. When I finally slid his pants and boxer briefs down, he kicked them off along with his shoes.
Holy shit.
Walker Prince should never be allowed to wear clothes.
His muscles were chiseled and defined, his skin lightly tanned, and his broad shoulders tapered to a lean, narrow waist with that sexy as fuck V at his hips.
I could?
?ve continued my slow perusal of his body for hours, but Walker palmed the back of my head and kissed me again, and just like last time, I lost control of my brain. He stepped closer as he devoured me with his lips, and I hooked my legs around his waist, trying to guide him to right where I wanted him.
His cock teased my entrance, sliding through my slickness, and we both groaned.
“Condom,” he grunted, and I nodded desperately.
He reached over to grab it from the counter where he’d set it next to his wallet, tearing it open with his teeth. He watched me as he slowly rolled it over his thick length, as if giving me one last chance to come to my senses, one last chance to stop this before we both did something we couldn’t take back.
But the thing was? I didn’t want to stop this.
I might regret it in the morning, and there was a tiny part of my brain that knew, even in the heat of this moment, that I was just asking to get hurt again.
But I didn’t care.
Walker had been my one and only love, the memory from my past all other men tried—and failed—to live up to. My body remembered his touch, and like it had a mind of its own, it was begging me to let this happen.
I needed it.
Maybe we both did.