Pure Wicked (Page 16)

Pure Wicked (Wicked Lovers #9.5)(16)
Author: Shayla Black

Finally, he brushed his lips over hers, the touch full of gentle command and electric thrill. A sizzle flashed over her skin. Her heart started thumping again, now beating a rapid tattoo against her chest.

Jamie pulled back enough to stare down at her again, searching her face for something. He caressed her other cheek with his warm palm. “God, I’ve got to taste your mouth, your skin. All of you.”

Before she could say a word, he captured her lips once more, this time crashing into her, hungry, demanding, as if he couldn’t get to her fast enough. He took her mouth as if he owned her, and Bristol wasn’t prepared for his onslaught. His touch made her dizzy. No, he did. His musky scent surrounded her, dangerous, sexy, as he pressed his chest to her beating heart and consumed her.

He was above her, around her, all over her. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she threw her arms around his neck, every bit as desperate to get to him, and gasped into his kiss.

Bristol wrapped the hem of his tank in her fists and tugged up. He grabbed her wrists and swept them over her head, forcing them against the wall as he stared at her, panting, searching, naked hunger tightening his face. “Bedroom?”

The dark snap of his voice made her tremble. “End of the hall.”

“Let’s go.” He bent and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his hips and covering her mouth with his again.

But instead of heading in that direction, Jamie shoved her to the wall and pressed himself against her. She swore she could feel his heart beating wildly. Then she forgot everything when he tightened his grip on her thighs and fitted his hips between them, rocking against her sex, right where he’d made her ache for him most.

Bristol gave a soft moan and writhed against him. It had been a while since she’d had a lover, but she had never felt anything so explosive, so connected. So right.

She pulled at his shirt again, perfectly happy with the idea that they might not make it to the bedroom. Here against this wall would be every bit as amazing, she’d bet.

He tore his mouth from hers. “How the fuck are you undoing me so fast?”

“It’s…” Chemistry. “Something’s happening between us. I…” Need you.

“Yeah. Me, too.” He plowed her mouth again, his tongue surging deep, his kiss thorough, as if he meant to stake his claim. “I’m glad we’re alone. I want to please every part of you. I want your body to know who owns it tonight. I want you to equate me with pleasure until all you have to do is hear my voice to get wet. I don’t want you to have the slightest urge to ever say no.”

“I can’t imagine ever refusing you anything, Jamie…” She couldn’t catch her breath, and it didn’t matter now. Not as long as he was touching her.

He mumbled a curse before smoothing out his expression. Then he started down the hall finally, every step providing friction between them in the most delicious places. Fresh tingles erupted. Desire settled between her legs—an ache so sharp it stunned. They were still fully dressed. He hadn’t done anything more than kiss her. But Bristol already suspected he would be the man by which she measured all others.

Jamie kicked the slightly ajar bedroom door open wide. Shakespurr scrambled off his perch on the windowsill with a startled meow, then scampered out of the room. Bristol barely noticed because Jamie carried her to the bed and tossed her to the mattress, following her down and covering her body with his own. He broke their kiss only long enough to tear her lacy shell from her torso and toss it across the room. Then he took her mouth again, nipping at her bottom lip and stealing inside, shredding her sanity.

Bristol tugged at his tank, frantically sliding her hands under the cotton to reach the supple skin over hard muscle. She longed to feel him, drink him in, make him a part of her for however long she could.

Finally, he tore his shirt off, sitting up enough so she could get a good look at him. Bristol nearly swallowed her tongue. Oh. Dear. God. The longer she looked at him, the more the dizzying fever of desire spun inside her. She raked her palms up the ridges of his abdomen, over the bronzed bulges of his torso. She traced the tribal tattoo on his shoulder, sucking in a breath at his iron flesh beneath her touch. Unable to resist, she skated her fingertips down his chest again, taking the time to circle one of his nipples. She delighted in watching them both go hard. Goosebumps broke out all over his body.

“Don’t push me too hard, Bristol. I want to do this right.” He panted, his breath coming fast as he gripped the button of his fly and tore it open. “Let me give us both a good time.”

He didn’t wear anything beneath his jeans. Bristol saw a shadowy hint of hair-dusted male flesh and shivered. Pressed against her earlier, he’d felt big.