Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

I look at her and feel a pull to be honest with her, to confide in her exactly what a shit show the last year of Holden’s life has been. But instead I shake my head. ‘Still does, I guess.’

She pushes back from her chair, moving around the table towards me, perching her butt on the edge. Her fingertips trail my other biceps, where there’s a more elaborate tattoo. She picks out the trident, and the wave that’s washing over it. ‘And here are more signs of the ocean.’

But she’s so damned close and that dress is still lower than it should be. I lift my fingers up and curve them into the fabric, pulling it down completely to reveal her breasts. She smiles; there’s not a hint of awkwardness in her face—and why would there be? We’ve seen each other naked enough times to be completely familiar with each other’s bodies. It doesn’t change the effect her bare breast has on me though; my blood is like fire inside me.

‘You’re still eating.’ She looks down at my bowl, half-full.

‘You’re finished though, right?’

She nods slowly and moves, lifting one leg so she’s straddling me. Her hands drop to my pants, working the button and zip. I have to shift a little to give her better access, but then her fingertips brush the tip of my cock and I bite back a curse. Relief is all-consuming. She frees me from my pants, running her nails over my length, her eyes hooked to mine with a look that is faintly mocking, like she knows how crazy I am for her right now.

‘Got any protection?’

‘No, I came over completely unprepared. Sorry.’ I reach into my back pocket and lift out a long string of foil squares.

She laughs at my sarcasm, but it’s husky and summer’s breeze carries it away. ‘Ambitious?’

‘Desperate,’ I correct, ripping the top off one square and sliding it over my length. ‘And presumptuous?’

‘No. Spot on.’ She pulls her dress up and it’s only as she eases herself onto my length that I appreciate she’s not wearing any underwear. Christ.

She’s so tight; her muscles squeeze me and I grind my teeth together in an attempt to keep some kind of grip on my willpower because, right now, I could actually just hold her hips low on me and spill myself into her. Two thrusts of my dick and I’d be done. But I don’t want that.

Hell, I’ve been fantasising about this for nights now and I want it to last.

She sits on my lap and I lean forward, tracing one of her nipples lightly with my tongue, causing her to make a keening noise low in her throat. I circle the dusky pink aureole of her flesh, cupping her other breast in the palm of my hand as I rock my hips, pushing deeper inside her. She moves up and down my length in small movements and I lift a hand to the back of her head, drawing her mouth down, kissing her hard, tasting wine and dinner in her mouth, aching to taste all of her.

She makes a moaning noise and I know it’s a precursor to her orgasm, and fuck, I want to feel her come more than I want just about anything on earth. My tongue duels with hers in time with my cock and she’s so tight around me, her muscles squeezing me until I can barely breathe, then she explodes and it’s the most unbearable form of torture.

Her muscles spasm around my length. I hold her right where she is and, before she can regain her breath, I begin to move again and curve my hand around her butt, running my fingers across the crease there so she trembles a little in my lap. I shift my attention to her other nipple, this time sucking it in my mouth hard, pressing my teeth to the tip so she tilts her head back, crying out. My fingers at her rear push against her, teasing her with the promise of my complete possession.

I feel her muscles tightening again and she’s rolling her hips desperately, her lips crying my name towards the sky, her body covered in goosebumps. I move back to her other breast and subject it to the same torture, rougher, harder, my teeth gliding over the sensitive tip until she’s incandescent. My hand on her butt lifts up and comes back in a slap that has her crying out, my name on her lips tortured as she arches her back.

Fuck, she’s so beautiful. I shove my plate aside so her back can connect properly with the table and I can see her better. Her dress is ruched over her flat stomach and her breasts are two perfect peaks. I fondle them hungrily with my hands and jerk my hips to drive my cock deeper inside of her.

She writhes, pleasure making her body frantic, frantic in a way I am completely hooked on, but it’s not enough. I’m riding a wave of torturous desire. I could come at any point but I don’t want to yet. I don’t want to. Instead, I drop a hand to her clit and rub my fingers over her flesh, moving inside her while I stimulate that cluster of nerves.

She’s swearing and crying out and I know how close she is, how wild she is. I want to taste her. It’s not enough to feel her. With a guttural oath, I pull my sheathed length from her body. Her cries of protest are music to my ears—I can’t be the only one driven to the edge of sanity by our coming together.

‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she moans.

‘Believe me, I don’t intend to.’

I push her legs wider apart and bring my mouth to her sex so she bucks against me, her legs quivering. I hold her still, pushing at her thighs to keep them spread as I run my tongue over her length, tasting her and tormenting her until she’s right back where she was, passion exploding through her.

‘Please, please, Theo. God, please.’

I move my tongue deeper and then suck her tangle of nerves into my mouth and she whimpers and twists so I have to hold her thighs harder. I feel her surrender, I taste her climax and I don’t stop, even as she’s tumbling over the edge. It’s torture, I know, but the very best kind. She rides wave after wave, her body trembling, her voice shaking, and I don’t stop because in this moment all I want is this, and all she needs is me.

She’s so wet, so completely wet, and my own restraint is at breaking point. She lies against the table, propped on her elbows, and fixes me with a flushed stare. ‘So you’re back?’

My laugh is husky. ‘Apparently.’

She’s moving then, bringing her body back to mine, and I wait for her to straddle me once more, to take me deep inside her, but instead she shifts off the side of the table and stands a little shakily beside me. Her eyes hold a challenge as she grips my legs and pulls me towards her. I’m big, she’s not, and there’s no way she’d be strong enough to move me without my help, so I do as she’s asking and angle my body.

Her eyes still hold mine as she reaches between us and unfurls the condom. I frown briefly, but then she’s kneeling between my legs, still looking at me as she opens her mouth and takes my cock so deep I hitch at the back of her throat.

Breath hisses from between my lips. I dig my fingers into my thighs, unable to wrench my eyes away from her as she moves her warm, wet mouth up and down my length, her eyes on mine, her possession so complete, so fucking great, that I see stars and unicorns and rainbows and pixies. Her mouth on me is heaven. Bliss. Nirvana. I tilt my head back, staring up at the dusky sky, my control slipping with every movement of her mouth.