Page 53 of Angel's Temper

“Yes,” she begged.

“Are they tight, wanting?”

Brass curled his hips forward, rocking against her and pressing the full length of his cock against her aching core. Her breath hitched as he did it again, slower, making damn sure she felt every single inch of him through their layers of clothing.

“They’re all those things. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

Then he pinned her with that fiery stare, seducing her body with his intense regard. Though there was something different in it this time. There was heat, yes, always that, but a different kind of alarm also drifted through the silvery fire of his irises.

When he spoke, she curled closer to him, somehow knowing that his next words would carry a weight to them that neither of them could bear on their own. “I will always give you what you want, Molly mine, for as long as there is breath left in my chest to give it.”

She didn’t have time to analyze the depth of his promise before he tore away every stitch of clothing she wore. An unwelcome urgency charged into the room on the heels of Brass’s conviction.

Time. They didn’t have any time.

The realization punched a crater of despair into her soul as it dawned on her what he was doing. What both of them were doing.

Were they saying goodbye? Was that what this was?

Molly gripped his shoulders and struggled to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Brass.”

Then he cradled the side of her head in his strong hand and swiped away at that tension tightening her jaw. “Not here. Not now,” he demanded.

And just like that, the man of few words silenced her with even fewer explanations. Passion pushed out any further worries. Instead, Molly let the urgency fuel her into taking what she wanted, what she needed.

While she still could.

Brass’s clothes fell away under Molly’s insistent touch. With no barriers and no more words left, Brass brought his mouth to her quivering stomach and licked a trail of scorching kisses up her body. Thought didn’t just leave her but leaped off the fire escape of her mind in a gleeful exodus. There was danger in being devoured so thoroughly and consummately, she was sure of it, but hell if she could bring herself to care when those wicked lips of his captured her nipple. Each small hurt he bestowed with teeth and tongue was instantly smoothed away with a supple mouth that shot arousing thrills to every awakened nerve ending.

Molly squeezed her thighs tighter against his arms, half urging, half pleading him to deliver on whatever anticipation the angel had masterfully worked up.

Brass paused only long enough to worship her other nipple, but his free hand didn’t remain idle for long. Her next sigh mingled with a masculine groan, causing the muscles in her lower belly to tremble with anticipation. It was a predator’s warning and the only one she got before his hand settled between her legs and he parted her intimate flesh with two fingers. Then the man settled into an expedition, exploring her heated arousal with studious swipes.

Sensations assaulted her from every angle. The warm, soft leather beneath her. The tepid air filling her greedy lungs. The intense focus on the combination of his hard fingers and feathered tongue ripping out vibrations only her soul had ever known.

Molly had passed too much miles ago and was currently rounding glutton for punishment. Then Brass sank a thickly knuckled finger into her most intimate channel while working her clit with expert tormenting pressure. Her breaths sawed out of her, each inhale bringing her shuddering breasts further under his scrutiny.

Before she knew what her body was doing, the bastard picked up on the rhythm and circled her swollen nub just so, coaxing her to squirm exactly where his waiting mouth wanted her.

His expert ministrations made her reckless, like a trapped wild thing made rabid by its surroundings.

And then he added a second finger.

“Brass, please. It’s too much. I need to feel you.”

Her words were robbed from her throat as his insistent fingers burrowed deeper, eliciting a rising tumult that she had to clap a hand over her mouth to trap inside and keep from rattling the books against their glass houses. As soon as her hand solidified its cage over her lips, Brass’s hand was there, peeling hers away and kissing her palm with a soft reassurance.

“What’s too much is for me to have you beneath me and not hear your cries of pleasure. I’ll be dead and dust before I’ll be asked to bear such a thing.”

Moisture slickened his hastening movements as she fought for purchase, for anything that would prevent her from soaring away from herself lest she never return to him again. Then a pulsing power overtook her, cresting over her heated skin and crashing upon her with relentless ecstasy that consumed more than it gave.

Brass was there before her trembling subsided, kissing her fluttering eyelids, her pulsing temples, even the hollow of her neck where what little breath she had still struggled for purchase. It was as if he needed to be there, guiding her down from the pleasure he wrought, ensuring she came back to him.

Her thighs relaxed away from Brass’s hips at the same moment his forehead fell against hers. Her dewy skin, coupled with his cock nestled against her swollen sex, made the contact far more intimate than it otherwise would have been. Brass leaned his hips further into the V of her legs and slicked his length with what he’d coaxed from her. His patrician nose nuzzled against hers as they savored the tenderness of a moment they both knew would be gone far too soon.

“I’ve wanted this for an eternity,” he whispered against her lips. “For lifetimes, for eons. Before languages existed with words to describe how good you feel against me, around me. Even now, with all the known vocabularies, words still fail me when I’m around you. They always have.”

Now, it was Molly’s turn to be utterly speechless. Her heart hammered out a frantic rhythm in time with his. She did her best to savor the echo of it as it reverberated from his chest to hers. How she wished she could memorize the whispers of his need for her and how stiflingly cherished it was to exist under Brass’s regard.

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