The command comes so unexpectedly, my legs begin to quake. All my systems rush to work together, but at the same time, I can’t move.
I feel like a bunch of organs struggling to come into one. Rapid heart. Sweating skin. Tremors in my nerve endings. Complete uselessness of my lungs.
All of my body wants the same thing but it seems too wound up to unite.
When I at last come together with a ragged breath, I feel so alive and yet so unraveled, even my toes tingle when we—me and my heart and my bones and my skin—finally manage to take the first step.
A fierce nervousness eats me raw, all the way to my destination.
Remington’s breathing escalates. His powerful chest rises even faster as I approach. Step by nerve-wracking step, my pulse throbs in my temples as the heat of his stare creeps into me. Between my legs, I burn for him. My ni**les throb. The hard tips push painfully against the cotton of my bra. Every pore in my body wants to beg him to suck them. To touch me. To love me.
Stopping a foot away, I can barely breathe as the smell of his soap envelops my lungs, drugging all my senses. His arms come out, and he tangles ten angry fingers in my hair as he yanks my head back in his fists and buries his nose in my neck, growling softly. His deep inhale reaches me, and a shudder runs through my body as I do the same, absorbing every color and flavor of his strong male scent into my body through my nostrils. His tongue flashes out to lick a wet path up my neck as an arm coils around my waist, and he crushes me to his body, whispering, “Mine.”
Lust and love burst through me. “Yes, yes, yes, Remington, yes.”
Tangling my fingers up in his hair, I eagerly push my br**sts to his chest and anxiously rub my pained ni**les against his diaphragm, my arms violently locking his head to me as he continues scenting me with deep, somehow desperate inhales. My body jolts with pleasure.
He grabs my face within his callused hands and drags his tongue from my neck, along my jaw, breathing roughly as he heads for my mouth. He licks the seam of my lips. Dampening me. Priming me.
His tongue probes at the seam, then he adds his lips and uses them to open me. He nibbles my lower lip to tease it apart from the top. A soft whimper feathers out of me and he muffles the sound when he dives in to taste me, wet and hot and hungry. My response is fast and wild, and our tongues collide in a heated frenzy of wetness and moans.
My body melts into his hard one until his strong arm, coiled around my small waist, is all that holds me upright. I don’t know if I’m bad for him, or him for me. All I know is that this is as inevitable as an incoming tsunami, and I’m just bracing for the swim of my life.
We taste and suckle each other, and I’m so thirsty he could feed me his kiss all night and I’d still be dying in the desert. He grips my hair tighter in one fist and keeps me in place as though he fears I’ll pull away from his delicious mouth, and I’m so afraid this is a dream that my fingers tighten reflexively in his wet hair because if there’s a fire in this hotel, if an army of crazy fans comes storming inside, or if Scorpion himself comes into this bedroom, I am still not letting Remington Tate take his mouth off me.
The wet heat of his mouth unravels me, makes me so high, I moan and suck lightly on his thick tongue, loving how Remington groans with me and pushes it deeper, giving me more.
He grows restless. Among the slick kissing sounds echoing in the room, his drawstring pants rustle as he shoves them down his legs, his arm muscles bulging as they clench against me. The linen fabric pools at our feet, and then he rams his thumbs into the front opening of my bra and yanks at opposite sides until it jerks loose. My br**sts bounce free and my bra hits the floor.
I’ve never felt so full until he cups the swells in one big hand and has to lift it higher to suck. He laves my ni**les with his tongue, first one, and then the other, and he engulfs both gentle curves with his hands and scrapes his calluses against my straining ni**les. I moan gratefully when he sticks his tongue back in my mouth because I’m just so hungry I can’t stop shuddering.
The slick kissing sounds echo around us once more. He squeezes one breast and shoves a hand between my legs, cupping me under my panties. He rubs me with the heel of his palm, and then rubs his longest finger along the moist folds of my entrance. Tremors of anticipation ripple in my womb.
He tears his mouth free, sets his forehead on mine, and watches as his hand moves sinuously under my white cotton panty. We’re so breathless I don’t expect his voice, guttural and rough as it explodes on my face, his forehead still resting on mine as he watches his hand caress my wetness. “Tell me this is for me.”
My arms clench around his strong neck as he teases the very tip of his finger inside, and a mind-blowing pleasure bolts through me. “It’s for you.” Gasping, I kiss hard temple, his jaw. A sound of protest leaves me when he withdraws his hand, then he grabs the edges of my panties, and tears them off in a single breath.
Excitement runs through me. He grabs me by the waist and flips us around, slamming me back against the wall. My legs fly around him as he cups my ass in his hands, and the next second I feel him—there, at my entry. His hardness meets all the exterior part of my slick wetness, and he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand.
“Are you mine?” he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me.
I gasp. Undone. Delirious. “I’m yours.”
His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. “Do you want me inside you?”
My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. “I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.”