Muffin Top (Page 37)

When his hands slid down her back and cupped her ass, he gripped both cheeks in his big hands and gave just the right kind of squeeze that made her break their kiss with an appreciative moan.

He let go immediately, his gaze searching her face. “Too much?”

As if that was even possible. “Not even close. I’m not some delicate flower who can’t take a man like you.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“It’s a promise.” Lame response? Yeah, but she was lucky to be stringing two words together at this point. “So why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

He gave her a grin that would have set her panties on fire if she’d been wearing any. “Everything you need.”

He yanked the blanket over so it was wrapped over the steel box, sat down, and tugged her down to him, so she straddled his lap with one knee on each side of his hips. Somehow enough of her brain cells were still functioning to make sure she balanced her weight on her legs instead of giving him the full brunt of it.

“Oh fuck that,” he practically growled, a heated look promising a million naughty things in his eyes. “I want you right”—he grabbed her hips and pulled her lower so that all of her was pressed against him, without holding any of herself back—“here so I can feel that slick, wet pussy of yours against me as I finally get to taste these beautiful nipples of yours. Now give them to me.”

She didn’t have to think twice. She cupped her breasts and lifted them higher as her nipples hardened to tight buds under his hot gaze. For half a second, he just stared at them, looking every bit like a man who’d finally gotten what he wanted most in the world. Then, he dipped his head and lashed his tongue across her aching nipples. Sensation shot straight down to her core and, unable to stop herself, she arched her back and undulated against him.

“You like that, do you?”

Hell yeah was the scream that went through her head, but all that came out of her mouth was another moan because he did it again and again before sucking one nipple into his warm mouth and doing things with his tongue that sent shots of electricity through her body. This wasn’t foreplay. This was a religious experience.

“Someday, I’m going to fuck these and come all over them.”

The mental image of his cock sliding between her breasts as she held them close together was almost too much. She didn’t just want that. She needed it. But before she could make the demand that they do just that right now, Frankie plucked at one nipple while rolling the other between two fingers, and the snap and crackle of that robbed her of any thought. All she could do was feel.

“I can’t wait to watch these tits bounce when I fuck you, when I bury my cock so deep in you that you’ll still feel it tomorrow.”

She fought for words, for the ability to seize back some control before she fell into the abyss of feeling that made her forget everything else but the man beneath her. “Maybe I like it slow and soft and sweet.”

One eyebrow went up. “Really?”

He cupped her breast and lifted it to his mouth, watching her as he grazed his teeth across the sensitive nipple with just enough force to make her suck in a quick intake of breath as she rocked against him, needing relief from the rough heat of his attentions.

“I’m not so sure you’re telling the truth about that.” His breath against her flesh was like a wave of fire against her wet nipple, which was aching for more attention. “Are you, Lucy?”

His hands glided down her body, over the more-than-a-handful curves to her hips, where he lifted her up and away from him without even a hitch in his breath. The agony of being away from him nearly made her cry out.

“If you want me to fuck you, you need to be honest. That’s the only way I can give you what you want.” His gaze traveled across her exposed flesh, and by the time he was eye to eye with her again, lust had turned his blue eyes dark and his jaw had hardened as if the effort to not just throw her down and bury himself inside her was costing him. “But you have to say the words.”

Jesus. The man got bossy any time her panties got wet. Okay, part of what got her panties wet was him getting bossy, but she wasn’t about to admit to that.

“I don’t want nice and sweet.” Okay, she wasn’t planning to admit it, but her mouth had other ideas.

He settled her down on his lap again, positioning her so that there was no missing the thick steel of him against her, so close and yet so far away from where she wanted him most.

Letting out a harsh groan mixed with mumbled words that sounded a lot like “fuck me,” he glided his hands up her back, following the line of her spine. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

And there it was, proof that being naked with Frankie Hartigan was pretty much truth serum, because it wasn’t enough that she wanted him to want her, she wanted him to want her so badly that it was like he’d been waiting years just for her. That it wasn’t just fucking. They were doing something more, something that took feeling good to feeling absolutely amazing—something that mattered. His gaze snapped back to her face, a sharpness in his eyes that made her think he hadn’t missed her meaning.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since you parked that ridiculous car of yours in my garage.”

Tension stretched taut between them as the narrative of just what this night meant began to morph into more. The realization made her pulse hiccup, and that old familiar ribbon of doubt that tied her insides into knots threaded its way through her.

“That must have made for some uncomfortable driving.” Defensive joking? Her? Oh yeah, that was exactly what she was doing.

“You have no idea.” Then he reached up and fisted her hair, pulling her head back and stealing the words from her mouth. “Now I want you to get off me, lay that gorgeous body of yours on the blanket, and spread your legs wide.”

In an act of physical grace she didn’t know she was capable of, she swung herself around and did exactly what he’d said. Following orders wasn’t normally her thing, but the idea of not doing what Frankie asked didn’t even occur to her.

“Fuck me,” he said as he looked at her spread out before him. “I cannot believe I’m lucky enough to be the man who gets to fuck you. If you don’t want that, you better tell me now, because it’s all I can think about.”

Good to know she wasn’t the only one. And while it was kind of awesome to be looked at like she was the Venus de Milo come to life, she wasn’t sure how much more of his studied gaze she could take. She planted her feet on the blanket and lifted her hips, offering herself to him in all but words. He bit out a curse and got on his knees between her legs. He slipped his hands around her ass and lifted her higher before finally lowering his mouth to her aching core.

He didn’t just lick or taste or curl his tongue around her clit. He feasted. He did things with his tongue and lips that she couldn’t describe beyond the fact that it turned her entire body into a supercharged live conductor of sexual need. There was nothing else in the world but Frankie’s hands palming her ass, keeping her in place even when the sensation got to be too much, his mouth doing magical and probably illegal things to her sex, and the building sensation tightening her belly and making her lungs tight. This was it. This was the edge that he was going to push her off of, and she was so happy to go flying into space because she knew without even a slight hint of a doubt that when she did, Frankie would be there to catch her.