Addicted to You (One Night of Passion 1)

Rill had much better things to do with his life than to become addicted to sex. Or at least he used to.

As he sat there on that bed, however, with his Katie Hughes skewered to his lap and her firm, luscious breasts just inches from his mouth, Rill realized something crucial. He was going to fall. It was inevitable. Katie had seen to that. And if he was going to abandon all wisdom and lose himself in that pit of decadence, he was going to dive in face-first and revel in every damn moment of it.

He leaned forward and inserted a nipple in his mouth. Just like he’d known she would, she melted on his tongue. He closed his eyes and listened to Katie’s low, sexy whine while his tongue laved a pebbled nipple and he sucked on prime female flesh. In a moment of greedy lust, he released her hair and scooped her breasts into both hands, planting his face between all that glory, shifting his mouth back and forth between two dark pink, distended nipples . . . drowning in need.

She shifted restlessly in his lap and Rill abruptly became aware of the uncomfortable ache of his cock. He transferred his hands to her ass and began to move her over him with subtle strokes; up on the staff of his cock several inches, back down in his lap, a delicious slight tug forward before she rose over him again and back an inch on the downstroke. Her pussy was so tight the whole thing would have been a lost cause if she wasn’t also wetter than a man’s hottest fantasies. One second he was carving through her clamping channel; the next she was melting around him, squeezing him in an eye-crossing embrace.

Taut, fluid friction at its finest, Rill thought mindlessly as he moved his mouth over her thrusting breasts, relishing in firm flesh, kissing, licking, biting . . .

Devouring.

She clutched at his shoulder with one hand and his head with the other. Her moans and catchy sighs were like an audible intoxicant. Rill dug his finger into the dense, supple flesh of her ass, sending a silent command for her to ride him more strenuously. She responded immediately to his touch, reading his mind, her cries of arousal piercing through the wild tattoo of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Sweet, tight, vibrant, wild . . .

“Katie,” he groaned, his voice muffled against a soft breast. He used his grip on her ass to pound her down on his cock with increasing force and rapidity. His hear

tbeat amplified until he distantly wondered if he’d pop a blood vessel.

He’d die an ecstatic man, he thought grimly. His arm muscles felt as if they’d rip clean through his skin, they flexed so hard as he fucked Katie for all he was worth and Katie returned the favor. He existed in a world of taut pleasure, fueled by the sexy sounds of Katie’s cries, the vision of her breasts bouncing rapidly before his seeking lips, the sound of their skin smacking together . . . faster, faster, faster . . . until the edges of his vision went black.

He stilled her frantic hopping in his lap and held her in place while his mouth closed over a nipple. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her captive against him. He sucked hard, triumph mingling with soaring lust when he felt her body shudder in his embrace and the walls of her pussy clamping and convulsing around him.

His cock lurched viciously inside her. Her nipple popped out of his mouth. He roared as he came.

It felt so blessedly good it hurt, but this pain was different from what he’d suffered last night. Tonight he experienced the pain of total surrender.

He’d thought he was lost when he’d staggered blindly into Vulture’s Canyon more than a year ago, but Rill had been wrong. That’d been a mere detour, a bizarre drop down the rabbit hole.

Lost? He hadn’t known the meaning of the word until he’d died a small death while he was buried, hard and fast, inside Katie Hughes.

Thirteen

She finally caught her breath and found herself draped over Rill’s body like a heated, melting confection. Her face was pressed near the hairline on his neck, her lips against his ear. His scent pervaded her—sweat, soap, musk and some unnameable fragrance that reminded her of the hills and green fields, as if all the rugby tackles of Rill’s youth had hammered the fresh smell of grass subtly into his skin.

She pressed her mouth to his hairline and wetted the tip of her tongue with his sweat. She’d never known a man to show so much raw, focused strength during lovemaking. Now that she was no longer in the intoxicated throes of orgiastic pleasure, the memory of his power amazed her . . . awed her.

She dropped her head and glided her lips over a perspiration-damp shoulder, giving the hardworking muscle its due. When she bit, she found his flesh dense and succulent.

His cock twitched inside her. Katie felt his hand move and grasp the hair at her nape. With a sense of growing wariness, she straightened at his silent bidding and met his eyes. Her lungs began to burn as he pinned her with his solemn stare.

“Now it’s done,” he said.

She exhaled with a gasp at the sense of finality in his tone. It’d been as if he’d just spoken after they’d committed a murder together. She thought of the way he’d criticized her there in the kitchen, of his mixed desire and repulsion in regard to her.

“No, don’t . . .” She whimpered in protest when he lifted her off his cock.

“I had to. The condom.” He grimaced, and Katie realized his withdrawal hadn’t been any more pleasant for him as it had been for her. It was a small consolation. Her spirits rallied slightly, however, when he pulled her closer until she straddled his lower belly and the tips of her breasts pressed against his chest. He opened his hand along the side of her head, and Katie was once again stunned by his largeness. He cradled her entire skull so effortlessly.

She glanced up at him. What was he thinking? Her hand rose and she mirrored his hold on her, furrowing her fingers through his dark, silky hair and palming his head.

“I know you aren’t happy about it, Rill,” she whispered.

His nostrils flared slightly. “I don’t know what I am about it. You scramble my wits, Katie.”

She looked away, mortified by the memory of what he’d said in the kitchen. Everyone has got to drop what they’re doing when Katie Hughes blows into a room like a sexed-up whirlwind. What are you trying to prove, tempting a man until he goes and does something he’s bound to regret?

“But like I said,” Rill continued gruffly. “It’s done. There’s no going back now.”