Page 252 of Steamy Ever After

“That’s my girl.” Brodie released her thighs and kissed her, probing, pushing as hard as his body was. “Let’s go home, Peyton.”

PEYTON

Home. What did that mean? Her home? Peyton’s eyes drifted over to the man driving her car. The way Brodie rested his fingers on the steering wheel defied the hardness of biceps so toned and powerful they strained the sleeves of his shirt. His hard, angled jaw and the slash of his cheekbones were illuminated by the glow of the car’s dash. His tightened muscles held untold promises of the pleasure kissing her had brought. When he looked her way, she saw the light dance in his deep blue eyes, his grin, and the dimples that cut into his beautiful face when he smiled at her.

Brodie rested his palm on her leg, squeezing as he slowly moved closer to the heat radiating from between her thighs.

His eyes drooped, and his breath caught when his calloused fingers sought the peak of her beaded nipple. “I want my mouth on you, Peyton. Everywhere.” He pinched her hardened flesh. “Here.” He slid his hand down and palmed her sex. “And here.”

She was in too deep already, allowing herself to be drawn into the sensual spell he weaved around her. Logic and restraint fled. She could not deny the pleasure she sensed he could give her. It had been so long since she was taken that she could barely remember how it felt to have her body stretched and her flesh penetrated.

The lustful look burning into his eyes and the dominance she felt in his hands were assurance that, once he had her, his touch would be one she’d never forget. His heat would sear into her memory and leave a mark no amount of time would heal. His pull was so magnetic she felt herself move toward him with no resistance.

Was she ready for this? Could she let herself go and open her body to him? There was no way to fight it. In five short days, Brodie Butler had claimed her. He owned her body, her mind, and soon he would own her heart.

Peyton whimpered softly when Brodie’s tongue slid into her mouth, tangling with hers and sending hot, pulsating pleasure down her body. He had her pinned between him and her kitchen counter, nuzzling the soft skin on her neck and breathing her in.

“You smell so fucking good,” he said, crashing his mouth into hers again and fisting her hair. “I need to be inside you, Peyton. Even that won’t be close enough.”

She deepened their kiss but broke away when Brodie lifted her and rested her behind on the counter, trapping her legs between his, then splayed both hands over her breasts.

“Let’s take this off.” He pulled her shirt out from where it was tucked into her jeans. “Unbutton it.”

She shimmied out of it and started to unfasten her bra, but Brodie shook his head.

“Hands on me, Peyton.”

She rested her palms on his arms.

“That’s my girl.”

He pulled the front down so her breasts fell over the cups, and went back and forth—kissing, nibbling, sucking, and laving. It was the little nips that took her breath away. Her fingers dug into his arms, and then relaxed when he soothed her with his tongue.

“Brodie, you’re torturing me.”

In between nips, he kissed and licked, going from one shoulder to the other. “You wanted me to go slow, baby. Isn’t that what you said?”

“No, God, not anymore. Please, Brodie.”

More kissing, more nipping. “Please what, Peyton?”

“More, Brodie. I need more.”

“More what?”

“Of you,” she whimpered. “God, I’m begging you.”

“All right, sweetheart. Let’s see if Brodie can take care of whatever it is you need.”

His hands went under her, pulling her to the edge of the counter. “Wrap your legs around me, Peyton.”

She did and when she put her arms around his neck, he picked her up and carried her down the hallway.

“Tell me where, Peyton.”

“Last door on the right.”

Once there, Brodie rested her on the edge of the bed. “Lie down for me, baby.”

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