That turns me on.

A lot.

Come to think of it, everything about this man excites me.

He pulls back for a second, his eyes hazy. “Another spot here,” Nate says, pointing to the hinge of his jaw.

“You’re right. You definitely have some there,” I say, then help myself to another kiss.

A guttural moan falls from his lips. Then one more as my mouth travels across his cheek on a hunt for any errant pieces of carnival dessert. I kiss his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw, his neck. Then, my lips linger near his earlobe.

“Did you get any here?” I ask as I lift my hand and hover it over the shell of his ear.

“Probably,” he mutters and stretches his neck beautifully, like he wants me to explore the landscape of his skin, to mark the treasure map of his body.

I oblige, trailing my lips over his eyes, his cheek, his chin. As I go, I cup his face, stroking his jaw with my thumb. He murmurs under my touch. This man is so fucking responsive. He makes me feel like a king, and I’ve barely touched him. “You’re still such a mess. Makes me think you need to take a long, hot shower.”

In a heartbeat, Nate shifts in my arms.

He’s a lion, his mouth a hunter. He claims me, fusing those lush lips to mine in a hot kiss. His hands coil around my hips, digging in, holding me hard in his grip.

One quick yank, and the pro-athlete has me at his mercy, my pelvis against his.

Oh yes, turns out I like athletes very much. This athlete. His strength, his possession, his big body.

I’m just under six feet. But he’s taller, broader, bigger, and I’m keen on his size. Most of all, I like his quick, confident certainty. Those big hands curl around my hips as his mouth makes me his prisoner.

Nate is a relentless kisser, all teeth and urgency. He plunges his tongue in my mouth, kissing deeply, so deeply I see stars. His thumbs dig into my hipbones, his tongue tangles with mine, and his kiss is utterly demanding.

Like he’s saying, just give me you.

That’s the one thing he can’t have—no one can have me—but my body is fair game. I let him know as much, slamming my hard-on against his, then grinding, pressing, pushing. My hands thread through his hair, only a little messy from the pie booth, but I don’t care. He doesn’t seem to mind either. I tug on the strands, jerking back his head.

“Yes, fuck yes,” he grunts while my tongue explores his neck, his throat.

I’m awash in sensations.

Absolute arousal.

Surreal desire.

And something else too.

The sense that our bodies simply fit, like puzzle pieces locking into place. There’s a natural ease to our connection, like we know how to touch each other.

Which is another mad thought. One I shove away.

This is fun.

Just fun.

Good, dirty fun.

“How about that shower?”

6

NATE

I’m not shy. Nudity is my favorite outfit.

Hunter’s not either, and with good reason. The man is fucking fit. When he slides down his pants in my bathroom, I lick my lips at the view. He’s all lean muscles and trim, toned legs and arms.

I shed my shorts and boxers in a flash, grip my dick, and stroke it once for him, nice and lingering, putting on a show.

His shoulders rise up and down as he stares unabashedly at my cock while he steps out of his pants, letting them pool on the tiled floor. “We really need to work on your issues with body confidence,” he says drily, and I am digging that British deadpan humor.

“Yeah, why don’t you work on them with me in the shower?” I turn around and step into the stall, giving him a view of my ass.

It’s a damn good ass, if I do say so myself.

“Fuck,” he says in a low groan.

I smirk privately. Yup. I think someone likes my booty. “Like the view?”

“Immensely,” he says.

“Maybe you’ll like my football more than yours now,” I say as I turn on the shower, then I watch him as he shucks off his briefs, and yes.

Fucking yes.

He’s thick, uncut, and ready for me.

My mouth waters. “Get the fuck in here now,” I growl, and the Englishman follows my order, joining me in the shower stall, shutting the door on the world beyond.

In a heartbeat, he’s back on me, his mouth crushing mine, the water beating down hard, steam rising and enveloping us.

His hand slides down my chest on a fast track to my cock, and holy hell. A jolt of pleasure slams into me as he wraps his hand around my shaft.

I moan into his mouth. He pushes me up against the black tiled wall, stroking me and taking over.

Hunter handles me like a man who knows what he wants. Like he wants to set the pace, and that suits my mood since my mood is horny AF. I groan as he shuttles his fist a little faster while kissing me a little deeper.

Tags: Lauren Blakely Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net