Flash Burned (Burned 2)

His gaze held mine as he deftly worked the fastenings of his belt and pants. He toed off his boots and shoved his clothes down, sweeping everything from his long, powerful legs so that he was gloriously naked.

My pulse stammered. “Oh…” I breathed heavily. “God.”

I hadn’t forgotten how magnificent he was—of course not. Yet the reality of him standing before me, so perfect even with scars, made the blood pump heartily through my veins.

He reached for me, pulling me closer. He knelt and divested me of my jeans, shoes, and socks. His fingers grazed over my bare calves, along the backs of my knees, and up my thighs, igniting fiery sensations.

His head bent and his tongue flickered tantalizingly along my pussy lips, the lace of my thong adding a hint of friction.

“Dane.” I trembled.

He stood, not quite as fluidly as normal, I noted. Taking my hand, he guided me to the bed. He pulled back the covers. I sat on the mattress, then scooted farther back to lie down, sprawled at an angle. Never breaking the eye contact.

A riot of emotions competed with exhilaration. I desperately wanted to feel him inside me, but the thought of him touching and tasting every inch of exposed skin was equally enticing.

His fingers hooked in the sides of my thong and he peeled off the material. Then he reached around to my back as my spine bowed and he released the clasp on my bra. He flung it over his shoulder, the lingerie likely landing on the heap of clothes we’d built.

His eyelids closed as he kissed my jaw, my throat, my chest. Lower still to my aching breasts, kissing the inner swells. He palmed the heavy and ultra-sensitive mounds. I’d gone much too long without his hands on me, making my body respond quickly and vehemently. My nipples puckered tighter than ever before, and the ache intensified.

“Dane,” I said again. My fingers plowed through his thick hair. “Suck my nipples.” I needed it like nothing I’d ever known. Urgently. Frantically.

His tongue fluttered over one taut peak before his mouth closed around the bud. I let out a sharp cry of relief and pleasure. Then everything turned frenetic as I gripped his biceps and rubbed against him.

“I need you inside me. Right now.”

I felt his thick shaft along my dewy folds, sliding easily. His tip pressed to my opening and I raised my hips.

“I love how wet you get for me,” he said in a low groan.

“Now,” I repeated.

He thrust deep, and I cried out again. The sensation of him filling me, stretching me, was intense and spectacular.

“Oh, God. Dane.”

“Yeah.” He slipped a hand along my thigh and slung it over his hips. He drove deeper, in long, full strokes.

Throaty moans escaped my lips as I watched him fuck me, his movements strong and skilled, quick and exciting.

His tongue teased my nipple before he suckled again, with just the right amount of pressure to send wicked shock waves through me.

“Just like that,” I murmured. “God, Dane. I’m going to come.”

So fast. And hard.

His pelvis gyrated and mine met his insistent thrusts, equally greedy.

“Christ, I need you so much,” he said against my breast. His hand cupped my ass cheek and he lifted my hips, angling them as he pumped into me.

I clung to him, drowning in the heat coursing through me, the love and lust I had for him. My fingertips pressed against his rippled muscles. I kissed his neck, nipped softly.

He bucked with more force and all I could feel was the erotic thrill of him pushing me to the edge.

“Yes. Oh, God, yes.” I couldn’t hold on a second longer. I came on a flood of emotion and sizzling undercurrents as I cried his name.

“Ari!” He came with me, his hot seed flowing, his cock pulsing. I clutched at him and tremors continued to run through us both.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. His breath was harsh against my throat as his face burrowed in my hair. Tears pooled in my eyes once more, but I fought the pain of the past couple of months and instead embraced the feeling of him inside me, alive and throbbing. Radiant and still hard.