“Mal?” She hugged herself, uncertain, and so fucking beautiful it took his breath away.
He ran the towel along her shoulder then stooped to lick a drop of water from her throat. One taste wasn’t enough. Neck and shoulder, silky side and stomach, the underside of her breast and the pebble-hard tip—his tongue raked each drop from her skin. He dropped to his knees, loving the grip of her hands on his shoulder, the shudder of her every breath. His lips brushed her belly, lightly sucking on the ridge of her hipbone and the swell of her buttock. When his nose nuzzled the soft hair at the juncture of her thighs, she moaned and arched into him. It was sexy as hell. She was sexy as hell.
“Tell me you want me,” he said, looking up at her.
Her heavy-lidded gaze burned into his.
His fingers stroked the inside of her thigh, higher and higher. He stopped, so close he could feel her heat. “Tell me.”
“I want you, Mal.” Her voice shook.
His fingers parted her skin and slid deep into her heat. Her nails bit into his shoulders. When his tongue licked her tight nub, she rocked against him. Nothing tasted as sweet as Olivia. He closed his eyes, his other hand cradling her ass and holding her still against his mouth. Her hands went from bracing to kneading, his tongue merciless as it stroked and teased her into a frenzy. He loved the power he had over her. He made her shudder with his touch, his mouth. Her body craved his—a feeling he understood all too well.
She bowed frantically against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair as a long, broken moan slipped from her lips.
When she swayed on her feet, he caught her close and swung her into his arms. His hunger still raged, but he was content to hold her. He was, she wasn’t.
As soon as they fell onto the bed, she rolled over him. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she slid down the length of his body and clasped his throbbing dick in her hand. He sucked in a breath, damn near swallowing his tongue when her lips closed over the tip of his erection.
“Aw, fuck,” he ground out, his hands fisting in the quilts.
She moaned, the vibration running the length of him. Her lips were firm around him. The the sweep of her tongue, up and down and around. The light suck when she pulled him deep against her throat. She tugged his hand free of the comforter and placed it on the back of her head. The spill of her hair between his fingers taunted him. Alpha or no, the urge to dominate was there.
“Mal.” Her voice startled him. “Show me what feels good.”
She kissed the tip, easing him back into the hot wetness of her mouth. She pressed his hand against her hair again. He stared down at her, his control slipping away at the sight that greeted him. Her ass was in the air as she leaned over him. His hands slid through her hair, tangling in the amber locks to hold her steady as he pumped into her mouth. And every time he disappeared between her lips, he groaned. It was good, too good. He wasn’t going to last.
Hands trembling, he let go of her hair to frantically tug open the night table drawer and pull out a condom. “Don’t move,” he ground out. He slid out from under her and off the bed, clasped her hips, and pulled her glorious ass to him. The stroke of his hands down her back had her arching back into him. It was too sweet an offering to pass up.
He wound one hand in her hair, tugging just enough to make her moan. The things her moan did to him. With his other hand, he traced the curve of her ass. From this angle, Mal’s view left him breathless. He wanted to love her and claim her all at once. So, he did.
One thrust and he was lost in the feel of her body. She was tight, and hot, and so fucking intense he needed more. He pumped into her, watching the spasms of her skin, feeling the clenching of her inner muscles, and listening to every gasp and moan. Hunger—for him—forced him on. The way she arched back, leaning forward onto her elbows to take him deeper, had him gritting his teeth. But he couldn’t wait.
He reached around, his fingers working her clit until her cri
es gave him permission to let go. There was no holding back. One thrust, then another, hard, and he emptied himself into her.
They fell to the side, his arms holding her tight against him.
She was gasping, one hand reaching back to rest on his arm. “The things you do to me.”
He kissed the nape of her neck, smiling at her full-body tremor.
Her passion-glazed eyes glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t ever stop.”
The longing in her voice made him groan, his dick stirring against her.
She smiled. “Exactly.”
Rolling her over separated them, but he wanted to see her face—see what she was thinking. He ran his fingers along the side of her face, stroked feather-light across her eyelids and brows, the tip of her nose, her lips and chin. If he could etch her into his memory like this, he would—flushed from loving him. Happy from loving him.
Her hand cradled his cheek. “You’re a mystery.”
“Nope,” he argued.
“Then tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m happy.”