Hold on to My Heart (Maine Sullivans)

The only thing he knew for sure was that she was irresistible, and his need for her was unstoppable. Even when a future together didn’t make any sense, their desperate need for each other was undeniable. And if he was being completely honest with himself, the depth of his desire to be with her—to make love to her and to laugh with her too—shook him to the core.

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her down the hall to what he hoped was her bedroom. Thankfully, he found it on his first try. As he lay her back on her bed and covered her body with his, he kept his lips on hers. She wrapped her legs around him as though she never wanted to let him go.

He hadn’t intended for this to happen, for the two of them to end up in bed together again. But he’d been unable to do anything but give in to his desperate need to see her again. Despite any and all rational thoughts about how she probably wouldn’t appreciate his intrusion into her real life, he’d used the van as the perfect excuse. An excuse that she’d seen through inside of thirty minutes.

He continued to taste her, to tease her with his lips and tongue and teeth, nipping and stroking over her skin as he untucked her T-shirt and pulled it up over her stomach. They momentarily had to stop kissing so that he could pull the shirt up over her head and toss it across the room. Then he dived back in, devouring her again.

He’d dreamed of being with her this way every single night they’d been apart. Dreamed of touching her. Kissing her. Loving her. Dreamed of the sounds she made when he kissed her. Dreamed of feeling her skin beneath his hands, his mouth. Dreamed of the sweet scent of her arousal.

He’d been so hungry for her the past six weeks, and now that she was in his arms again, he was even hungrier. Greed for more of her, for all of her, was taking him over and driving him beyond all rational thought.

Desperate to get her naked, he was rough with the button and the zipper of her pants, shoving the denim off her legs, pushing off her shoes too. When he took off her bra, desire made him clumsy as he tore at the clasp.

She gasped as the cotton gave way, and her breasts sprang free into his waiting hands. He found cotton so much sexier than silk or lace had ever been. Because it seemed real, honest, genuine.

Real like Ashley. Beautiful like Ashley. Steady like Ashley.

She was a miracle in every way.

He moved his mouth from her lips, across her cheekbones and then her neck so that he could kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear. Then the hollow of her throat and over the swells of her breasts.

She was so soft, so perfect as he laved his tongue over the aroused tips of her breasts and all of the delicious skin that surrounded them.

She cried out his name. A cry that sounded like a plea for more.

He wanted to give her everything. If only he had more to give to her. If only he understood what love was, because something told him that if he did, he would have declared himself to her in that very moment.

But Nash knew he couldn’t give her any of those things. All he knew how to give her was pleasure.

So. Much. Pleasure.

He moved his sensual attention to her other breast, teasing, tasting, stroking. He loved the sounds she made, the abandon with which she expressed her pleasure. He continued lower, raining kisses over her belly.

She was so beautiful. Curvy in all the right places. A million times sexier than any supermodel would ever be.

He never wanted to hurt her. And yet, if she asked him to leave right now, he wasn’t sure he would be able to make himself go. Not when she was begging him like this, begging him to strip her bare and taste her the way he had in the shower in Vienna.

Without any finesse, he yanked her panties down…and devoured her. Delving deep into the core of her with his tongue. Teasing and caressing the very center of her arousal.

His name erupted from her lips in a cry of raw, animal pleasure as he drove his fingers into her at the same time that he swirled his tongue over the apex of her pleasure.

As her climax rippled through her, he would have drawn it out forever if he could. Just kept making her come and come and come for him, over and over again.

At last, she stilled beneath him. Slowly, he moved up her body, digging out a condom from his wallet with one hand, then tossing the wallet to the side.