Page 68 of Snake

—and oh GOD. Look at him.

He had a full sleeve of ink on his left arm, and the word HORDE in thick, Old-English letters that filled the space between his wrist and his elbow on his right arm, so, without actively wondering, she’d expected him to have multiple tattoos under his clothes. But his chest was unmarked. A broad expanse of firm, contoured flesh, lightly sprinkled with short golden curls.

She spread both her hands wide and set them on his pecs—just as firm as they looked. His heart thudded against her palm, like it was trying to break through the confines of his ribs.

Had any man before ever wanted her so much she could feel it?

Before that thought could evanesce, Cox claimed one of her hands and set his mouth on her palm. He rested there.

It was such a gentle thing to do, Autumn felt her eyes begin to water. She blinked and cleared her sight.

“Too many clothes,” she whispered, because if they spent another minute in this intense stillness, it would come to mean more than it could hold.

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Cox shifted back to his knees. He drew her pants and underwear from her hips and pulled them off as he stood at the foot of the bed and rid himself of his own clothes.

And again, GOD. He was perfect. Sinewy strength, masculine power. Every part of him was breathtakingly strong and beautiful.

Every part.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said, his voice a graveled rasp.

A pleased laugh surged from her chest and rolled from her lips as she writhed beneath his scorching gaze. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Naked at the foot of the bed, his erection huge, his skin flushed with need, Cox went still. He stared down at her, frowning, and didn’t move.

Also naked, Autumn lay in a sprawl and stared up at him, wondering. Each passing second made her a little more self-conscious, a little more confused. She held off the growing need to shrink up, to shield herself from the intensity of his regard. But she didn’t understand what was going through his mind. Why had he stopped?

“Cox?” she asked finally. She lifted her arms in invitation.

He blinked. For another second or two, that was his only movement. Then, just as she would have let her arms drop, he caught her hands in his and pulled her from the bed to stand before him. They were so close, and he was so much taller, Autumn had to tip her head back to claim his gaze again.

“You want this?” he asked, his voice so soft the words were more of a thought than a question.

“I want this,” she assured him. Her inner hall monitor made no protest.

His eyes shifted to focus at some point beside her. He nodded. Then he stepped to the side of the bed and sat down. He hadn’t let go of her hands, so she came with him, still standing before him, her gaze still bound to his, but now looking slightly down.

Her eyes dropped lower, taking in his strong shoulders, the notch at the base of his throat, the curve of pecs, the light dusting of golden curls collected there, the tight furrows of his folded belly, his thick cock standing ready, his meaty, firm thighs.

His fingers weaved with hers, and he dipped his head, drawing her attention to his face again. When he had it, he tipped his head toward the cheap dresser. “We need a condom.”

At that moment, Autumn felt a frisson of disappointment. The foreplay was over already? His attention to her breasts had been wonderful, the feel of his rough palms all over her skin had been magical, but there was so much more she wanted ...

She’d forgotten that Cox was a biker, used to a clubhouse full of ready and willing women, used to taking from sex what was offered.

Her inner hall monitor worked the gag loose enough to say, See? What did I tell you?

But Autumn still didn’t care. She was turned all the way up, so hot for this man she was throbbing. This was only sex, and his equipment was more than sufficient to get the job done. So what if she’d need to help herself along a little, to close the gap of disappointing foreplay?

She freed her hand—he’d only give up one—and reached for the box of condoms, pulling one free.

When she offered it to Cox, he shook his head. “You.”

Oh. Well, this could be interesting. In fact ...

Autumn hadn’t gone down on a man for quite a while. Miles, her most recent ex, had used it like a punishment, putting her on her knees whenever he felt she needed humbling. He’d kept his sadistic streak under wraps until she’d been invested enough to bring down her guards, and it had taken her too long thereafter to accept that his goodness had been the anomaly, his cruelty the reality.

After him, in addition to giving up on serious relationships, she’d opted out of that particular facet of sex.

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