Cross My Hart (The Notorious Harts 1) - Page 8

‘Jagger...’ My name falls out of her mouth—a plea, a question.

‘You’re close?’ I ask, my tongue running up her seam.

Her harsh intake of breath is loud and primal.

Her hands scrape as they run over the duvet, digging into it.

‘Uh huh,’ she exhales. I find her clit and suck it into my mouth and she cries out louder now, and I laugh—despite the fact I’m as hard as I can get, the fact we’re surrounded by thin walls and God knows who else on the other side of them doesn’t seem to have entered her head and I’m glad. I love her lack of self-consciousness.

I flick my tongue over her and she trembles beneath me—I kiss her harder, faster, my tongue tasting her until she explodes and I keep her legs right where they are, when she might have pulled herself away, because I want to enjoy every damned thing about her release. As she rides that wave, I push a finger inside of her and she bucks hard, her muscles squeezing me, and I groan then because my cock is more than a little jealous to be missing this party.

But there’s time. We’ve got all night. Just this one night...and I’m going to make it count.

CHAPTER THREE

HE IS SOME kind of sex god. Some kind of kinky, wild sex god. I can barely breathe. I think pleasure has taken up every square inch of my body, leaving little room for other optional extras such as oxygen and blood. No, the blood is there. It’s rushing through me, reaching every tiny little cell, filling me up with heat and fire and flame and need.

More need—how is that possible? It’s like I’m one of those stock market charts and every bloody release I get just pushes me down for a second before a new need swiftly kicks in and takes over.

I scramble onto my elbows so I can look at his dark blond head—between my legs—and I moan again because the sight of him like that should make me feel...squeamish or embarrassed, but it doesn’t.

‘You can just stay there all night,’ I joke, smiling like the cat who got the cream—the girl who got the best head in the world, at any rate.

He looks up my body, over the curves of my breast to my eyes, and he grins then drops his mouth to my clit while he’s watching me and I watch him as he lashes me again with his clever, clever tongue.

And I jerk because I’m so sensitive that the slightest touch feels like he’s attached live wires to me.

He eases up, kissing me instead, just a gentle, soft kiss, and then he stands.

His cock is so hard, so beautiful, and I stare at it, wanting him inside me even when my body is still burning up from what we’ve just done.

‘I want you,’ I say simply, because what’s the point in lying to a one-night stand? I don’t care if he thinks I’m some wanton, sex-addicted hussy. I’m never going to see him again and hell, I do want him.

I’m already kind of high on the fact I’ve pushed my idiot ex way out of my mind, or at least erased his touch from my body. It feels kind of ceremonial—especially the timing.

‘Stand up.’ The command is gruff. I swallow, doing as he says, my eyes holding his as he takes my hand in his and pulls me towards the window.

‘I like this city.’ He positions me so I’m looking out of the glass.

‘Me, too,’ I say, my pulse thready as he spreads my legs from behind, my temperature skyrocketing. His hands on my hips steady me as he thrusts into me from behind, and I groan because I have missed him, the feeling of him buried inside me. He’s so big—my muscles had to stretch to accommodate him at first but now I feel like I’m made for this. I brace my arms on the glass, thankful for the heavy tint and the fact we’re high up above the city.

He thrusts into me hard and then one of his hands comes around to my breast, cupping it, and I call out because my nipples feel like they’ve been coated in extra nerve endings or something, so sensitive are they to his touch.

From this angle he reaches so deep inside me, my body is burning up with this.

‘I want to feel all of you,’ he says simply, as he pushes into me and his other hand comes around to my clit, brushing over it, as his cock pushes deeper and harder and I moan.

‘I am all yours.’

He stills for a second, and then the hand that was on my breast drops to my hips and comes to my arse, curving around it, his fingers digging in slightly, and I whimper because the pressure

feels so damned good.

His thumb inches closer to the middle of my backside and I hold my breath as he brushes over my butt.

Fuck.

Desire surges inside of me and I push backwards a little, encouraging him, not even wondering what the hell has gone on in my mind that I’m contemplating this.

Tags: Clare Connelly The Notorious Harts Billionaire Romance
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