Ripples shoot across my body, shooting from his thumb straight to my core as he continues caressing my face, all the time watching me with those breathtaking, heartbreaking, beautiful blue eyes as though engrossed. His voice is velvet on my skin. “Until I saw this lovely girl in Seattle, with big gold eyes, and pink, full lips … and I wondered if she could understand me…”
My chest heaves at his unexpected words, and when he bends his head closer, his gaze almost asking permission, I border on sensory overload as his scent of soap and shampoo and water cling to my nostrils.
The ache for his touch throbs through me, but instead of reaching for me, he spreads the towel and draws it over my body and gently covers me. His voice is rough with emotion.
“I want to say so many things, Brooke, and I just can’t find the words to tell them to you.”
He sets his forehead on mine and inhales deeply. Slowly, still breathing me in, he drags his nose along the length of mine.
“You tie me up in knots.” He presses my mouth with his. Briefly. Then he withdraws, breathing hard, and looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I want to play you a thousand different songs so you get a clue of what … I feel inside me…”
Raw need streaks through my bloodstream, my nerves, my very bones, as he strokes his thumb up my jaw and around the shell of my ear. Shivers run through my body as he slides his index finger across my top lip. He strokes liberally across my bottom one too, and I whimper. There’s an ache in my beaded nipples, my wet sex, my heart.He holds my face between his palms and angles his head, fitting my lips softly to his as he draws my tongue into his mouth, sucking strongly on me.
I moan and grip his shoulders with my nails, locking him to me. “Why won’t you take me, Remington?”
He groans and pulls me closer. “Because I want you too much.”
His tongue dips hard against mine, and sensations spark up in my nerve endings as he leans his body into mine, his skin damp and hot, the towel falling to my waist and my breasts getting flattened by his diaphragm.
I gasp into his mouth as he pulls me closer and continues his sensual assault with his lips.
“But I want you so much, and I’m protected,” I pleadingly cajole. “I know you’re clean. You get tested all the time and I…” I shudder at the feel of his chest muscles against the sensitive tips of nipples, hard and bulged. My hips tilt up by pure instinct, and I’m just a female. Seeking my male. His hardness. His touch. I can’t breathe, can’t think, want him want him want him.
An orgasm is not what I want and I know it. What I want, need, is so much more than that. It’s the connection. The exhilarating contact with this human being, a being that compels me like no other. I miss his touch, his kiss. I don’t care if he gives me just a little kernel of what he can give; I’m just starving to be fed, and my body has never been this hungry.
“I want you in my bed again. I want to kiss you, hold you,” he groans.“I can’t do this anymore, please just make love with me…” I beg.
Pressing into him as he hungrily takes my mouth, I shift my body until one of his legs is wedged between my thighs.He nibbles and bites my lips, his hands fisting my hair. I’m so desperate I rake my nails down his arms as I rub my sex against his hard thigh. Sensations shoot off. I whimper, feeling the coiled tension in his shoulders, the smooth velvet of his chest as he devours me, and at the first scrape of my nubbin against the rock-hard quad muscle of his thigh, I explode.
Shuddering uncontrollably, I feel him stiffen in surprise of my startlingly powerful convulsions. His hands quickly spread on my back and flatten me to him as he lifts his leg higher between my thighs and grinds his muscle into my clit, his ravenous mouth taking all my moans inside him.
When I’m done, he brushes my hair back and looks positively intimate. His voice. Intimate. Mild with tenderness. “Did that feel even half as good as it looked?” His fingers trail along my cheek in a whisper touch, and there is still not enough air in my lungs to scream at him.
I Hate. Him.
I feel like I just gave him everything, and got nothing back, even though I was the one who was pleasured. Angrily securing the towel around myself, I glance around the room, at anything but his odious beautiful sexy face.“I assure you that’s not happening again,” I whisper in my complete and total embarrassment.
He kisses my ear, his voice husky. “I’m going to make sure that it does.”
“Don’t count on it. If I wanted to have an orgasm all alone I could have taken care of myself without giving anyone a show.” With the towel clutched to my chest, I sit up and ask, “Can I borrow a damn shirt?”