Page 50 of Tempting

He pushes in gently at first . . .

Just the tiniest bit before circling my clit with his fingers, then bringing them up to my mouth and painting my lips.

Without thinking about it, I lick my lips, and Nixon’s dark pupils take over his entire eye as he stares at my mouth.

There’s a war waging in those baby blues.

We stay there like that, frozen in time, for what feels like minutes but is actually only seconds. Standing still... until “Fuck it” is ripped from his lungs.

And finally, the kiss happens, like a bolt of lightning, violent and beautiful, stealing my breath from my chest.

On my gasp, Nix thrusts all the way inside me, and oh God...

Every single one of my senses rockets into hyperdrive.

Pleasure and pain spark and burst and tear at my body.

Agony and ecstasy claw at me in tandem.

Nix swallows my screams. “Such a fucking good girl,” he praises against my mouth before his tongue sweeps inside. Tasting me. Teasing me. Fucking me into oblivion.

“Look at you taking me like such a good girl,” he rasps against my mouth, and I gasp and watch our reflection long enough to feel the heat wash over every inch of my skin. His words leave me desperate for his praise.

“Yes... your good girl,” I whisper and press my lips to his as he devours me.

Each stroke of his tongue against mine brings me higher... makes me hotter... until I’m soaring, and the pain no longer exists.

Nixon drags his thick cock out, and I whimper immediately at the loss before he pushes back in. Brushing against every inch of my tight walls. Ripping me apart in the sweetest way imaginable until I’m teetering on the sharp edge of a knife, sanity slipping into delirium. Unsure how much more I can take but wanting to take it all. Needing it. Begging for it.

My eyes stay glued to our reflection.

To the erotically beautiful sight in front of me and the way he’s moving inside me but never taking his eyes from me.

It’s not just Nixon. It’s the way Nixon is watching me.

We’re beautiful.

I can’t look away. I refuse to.

A white, hot, electrifying pulse burns through me, threatening to destroy everything it touches. I moan and whimper until callused fingers grip my jaw, holding me still while Nixon’s mouth takes mine again, and our tongues dance a wicked dance.

With each achingly slow stroke of his cock, his lips worship mine, soothing the pain until it’s nothing but pleasure. Until my muscles contract around him. Stretching to take him deeper. Clawing to get him closer. Until we’re moving in a savage harmony.

Pushing. Pulling.

Dying for more.

For everything.

“Tell me what you feel, Mackenzie.” His raspy voice demands my submission, and my clit pulses as if his words are a physical touch.

“I feel...” I lick my lips and watch my chest rise and fall rapidly, entranced by our reflection. “Like every nerve... every synapse in my body is hypersensitive, and they’re all lit up like the Fourth of July... Like I never want you to stop. Please God, don’t stop.”

Nixon grazes his teeth over my earlobe, then down my neck as he pulls out again, slower this time. Teasing me.

“Nix . . .” I keen.

He thrusts back in on the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard, then sets an unrelenting rhythm with each hard snap of his hips.

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