Heat filled her core, making the cold almost vaporize around her as a rush of cream gathered between her thighs. Her own nipples responded and, although already erect from the cold, they pressed harder into her bra and blouse.
He raked his gaze across her curves, perfectly delineated by the flimsy silk blouse she’d worn, and his nostrils expanded. “You crave my touch, Monica,” he said, suddenly foregoing the unbuttoning of her shirt and sliding his hands under the fabric to pull down the lace of her bra and engulf both mounds in his big hands.
He squeezed and caressed, massaged until the pleasure made her every fingertip tingle in pleasure.
“You ache for this. You beg for it. Your pulse goes crazy. You tremble. You arch and push up for more. You go wet and hot and desperate. It’s why you keep coming for it … it’s why you can’t think straight anymore … you want this. You need this more than you will ever know or even understand.”
She wanted him so much, a fire burst open in her belly, incredibly hot. His thumbs passed and tweaked the throbbing nipple tips, and her body arched to the almost painful touch, her hips circling eagerly in search of his erection.
“What do you think would go on with me, Monica?” He gentled his voice, his eyes liquid green as he pushed the halfway undone shirt aside to reveal one puckered wet breast, and he proved to her how in control he was of her own body, making her moan deep in her throat as he bent to devour her nipple until it throbbed.
“I’ve had it bad for you my entire life,” he said, blowing air into the thrumming crest. “Holding you while you cried in my arms without making you mine was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. You arouse me like crazy. I lust for you, respect you, admire you.… Why do you think we look for what we look for in others? What is it you think we really feel for each other?”
She tossed her head in protest, but even when bristling, her neglected breast also ached for his kisses. Her voice was raw with need. “Don’t you dare even imply that you care,” she said with gritted teeth, grabbing his head and hauling him to her breast, moaning when he exposed it through the meager parting of her shirt and laved it with his tongue. “You don’t just wear a BORN FREE tattoo and get to say this to me,” she cried.
He pulled her into a sitting position, his chest heaving as he ran a fingertip over her trembling bottom lip, his face harsh and beautiful in its intensity. “We’ve been going against what we want for over a decade, Monica. Why is nothing ever enough for me, not harder sex, not more women? Why can’t you be with another man?”
“That’s not true.” She pushed at his hand and edged down the seat away from him. “Go back to your hussies, Daniel!”
His arms quickly snaked around her and he brought her to his lap, anchoring her down. “Do you think I’ll be satisfied with someone else now? When I could have had you?” He forced her over his erection, meaningfully rocking his hips so she would feel him at the very wet and achy entry to her sex. “You’re like a drug, Monica. I can’t stop now that I’ve tasted you.”
Her face flamed as his cock continued bumping up the cheeks of her buttocks, the unmistakable energy of lust and need whirling around them, until it was more than a need, more than desire, more than a fever, until his green eyes were like torches and they had set every inch of her on fire.
The patter of raindrops continued above them, and Monica’s body was shaking, had been shaking since he’d appeared this morning.
She closed her eyes and took in a long, calming breath, which quickly left her when his hot hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her tighter against his hard chest. Those hands, their scent, the uncompromising way they held her, it was like he’d summoned out her desires that first night, like a genie from a bottle, and now he owned and commanded her.
Her heart sped, her breath quickened, her body tensed with a rush of desire so powerful, she was helpless to resist its magnetic pull as he tipped her head around to his.
“Take the day off with me.”
He lowered his forehead to hers, breathing intensely. Shuddering, she held her eyes closed, not wanting to open them, a strange sound of need groaning out of her throat. He made an answering sound, and for a moment, they breathed on each other, his hands sliding around her, while her own hands were at his shoulders—wanting to push him away, but not doing anything except clutching him with severely cramped fingers.
It felt like a lifetime had passed before he moved his head a fraction. She was ready. So ready. Born ready.
His lips closed over hers, acting like an adrenaline shot straight to her heart. His tongue flashed to hers, and she trembled with how much she wanted it.
He gathered her closer and into his arms, and she slid her hands over his wet shirt and wrapped herself all over him, urgent for closeness, for his hands, his touch, his voice explaining to her what she was feeling. Could he please explain to her what she was feeling?
Sensations swam through her bloodstream as he drew her tongue into his mouth and sucked on it with a growl of pleasure so deep, it curled her toes.
Her fingers were restless and slid into his hair, silky and thick, and his hands splayed on her back, sliding to cup and curve around her ass.
“I know what you want, princess. What you need. We’re both too wound up, I should’ve just stayed over last night and made love to you in the morning. We need this.”
He slid his hands up to cup her face and kissed her nose, then he brushed his lips almost tenderly across hers. He set a kiss on each corner of her lips. “This. This. This.”
He’d moved center on the lips again, and she opened and pushed her tongue out almost frantically to his, with her hands grabbing the waistband of his pants and tugging him harder, closer, as his hands clenched onto her face.
He angled his head and yanked her closer as he devoured her, then he reached to unzip his pants. She edged sideways so he could pull himself out, and when he did, she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
Daniel sat there, his cock thrusting outward. So huge. She licked her lips as a painful need tore through her. She wanted him. The need was almost surreal, gnawing and destroying her. He wasn’t gentle with her, didn’t treat her like a maiden, she was all hot woman in his arms, and he would never let her forget it.
“Sit on it,” he said softly.
Her hands trembled as she tremulously pulled up her skirt and removed her panties, aware that he watched her.