God, he loved kissing her. Loved the way her lips moved beneath his, the way her fingers slid into his hair, gripping and holding tight to him. She trembled in his arms and moaned into his kiss, lost to the pleasure building between them.
He loved her—no, he loved her kiss. He loved her touch. He loved her— He pushed the thought away, kissing his way from her lips, along her jaw, to the delicate line of her throat.
Eve’s head tilted to the side, granting access to the graceful line as her lips found his shoulder and her nails dug into his biceps. He kissed, licked, marked the base of her neck, shocked by the groan of satisfaction that escaped his lips at the sight of the reddened love bite where her neck and shoulder met.
Leaning back, Brogan framed her face with his hands and stared into her dazed expression.
“So pretty,” he whispered, stroking his hands along her neck, shoulders, and then down her arms to her wrists. Slowly pulling her wrists behind her back, he lowered his lips to the upper curves of her br**sts.
Hunger, lust, and something more—something he didn’t recognize and couldn’t define—threatened to pull him under. Threatened to destroy his control and the pleasure he insisted on giving her.
When this night was over he would have to tell her the truth. He had no choice. Pulling her into his life required that she know what his life was, and her part in it. And the chances of losing her once he did so were high. High enough that he had to attempt to tie her to him with pleasure.
Brushing his beard over the hard tips of her br**sts, he allowed his tongue to take a quick, flickering taste. Restraining her gently, he watched her expression, watched the pleasure building inside her.
This was a high that could never be duplicated. It was a high more dangerous to a man’s soul than any found in a drug. Because this high chanced an addiction to not just the pleasure, but to the woman. And he was beginning to fear he had found the woman and the pleasure that could become an addiction impossible to live without.
Parting his lips, still watching her, he lowered his mouth to the pebble-hard tip of her nipple.
“Oh, God, Brogan,” she cried out, arching into him as desperation filled her voice and aching, imperative need filled her gaze.
Ah, yes, he knew that pleasure rising inside her. The same pleasure he’d felt lashing at his c**k as her mouth surrounded it and sucked it inside the damp heat.
He drew on the engorged peak of her nipple, licking at it, watching her expression and feeling the tension rising in her—ah, God, yes. She could definitely become his addiction.
His weakness.
She could become his destruction.
ELEVEN
Explosive pleasure, flaring through her senses and rasping over sensitive nerve endings, screamed through her body. The feel of Brogan’s lips surrounding the tender tip of her nipple was throwing her senses into chaos. Whipping pinpoints of sensation struck at her clit, at the sensitive depths of her pu**y. They burned through her, flickered across her flesh, and sent electric bursts of impending ecstasy rocketing through her.
She arched to him, desperation filling her with the need to get closer to the heat of his body. She needed more, needed her nipple deeper in the fiery heat of his mouth. She couldn’t get close enough. She couldn’t still the demand raging through her body. Frantic, hungry lust built and burned to furious peaks, spilling her juices from the clenched depths of her pu**y and drawing her body tight with pleasure.
“Please. Oh, God. Brogan, please,” she cried out, feeling her senses spinning as her breath caught at the sensations thrumming through her cl*t and making her pu**y clench.
Releasing her nipple from the devouring grip of his mouth, Brogan turned his attention to its mate.
“I love your ni**les,” he crooned, brushing his beard against the hard, incredibly sensitive peak. “The feel of them, the sweet taste of them.”
He surrounded the hard tip with his mouth, and heat shot from the throbbing peak to pierce her womb before striking at the pulsing bud of her clitoris.
“Brogan. Damn you . . .” Straining at the hold he had on her, Eve felt herself becoming consumed by the needs racing through her body.
Excitement and adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream and laid waste to her ability to hold any part of herself back; pleasure rushed through her system again. Holding her relentlessly in his grip, Brogan sent torturous pleasure whipping through her with his touch, melting her, consuming her ability to function without him.
When his head drew back she could only moan at the loss of his touch as she attempted to push her br**sts to him once again.
“I’m going to release your arms, Eve,” he told her, staring into her eyes as she forced them open. “Don’t touch me, understand?”
She could only shake her head, confused now.
“I need to touch you, Brogan,” she whispered, breathless and aching with such force it was like being tortured from the inside out.
She loved the feel of his body. The warmth and strength of him were a stable port in a chaotic storm of sensation.
“Not tonight.” He grimaced. “My control is shot, Eve.”
“Then don’t wait.” She reached for him, pouting when he caught her hands again.
Holding them at the wrists, he stared back at her with dominant intent. “Eve, I could always tie you to the bed.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare!”
Gripping her wrists in one hand again, he lowered the other, trailing it along her thigh before sliding it between them and quickly wedging them apart.
“I’ve dreamed of eating your hot little pu**y,” he growled. “So yes, sweetheart, I damned well would tie you to the bed.”
The first sentence hadn’t passed his lips before Eve was breathing roughly, more of her juices flooding her pu**y and spilling to the swollen folds beyond.
“Want me to do that to you, Eve?” he asked softly, knowingly, as his finger touched her, slowly easing through the saturated slit.
Her h*ps jerked, the sensations tearing through her pu**y, jerking through her body like bolts of electric energy.
“Ah, you do like that,” he crooned.
Holding her gaze, he returned his finger to where it had been, the tip stroking upward this time to circle the swollen bud of her cl*t and dragging a harsh, desperate cry from her lips.
A second later he removed his touch again, staring up at her, demand filling his expression. “No touching me, agreed?”