His turn.
His throat bobs and he openly leers. My skin heats up the longer he stares.
“Jesus fucking Christ, those are some nice tits. C’mere, Sugar—I’ve got to know once and for all what those tits taste like.”
16. Rafe
Ihave to take a second to tamp down my excitement. As the slinky fabric pools at Marisse’s waist, she reaches up to unpin her hair. Her thick curls tumble down past her shoulders, resembling the burning-red sunset outside my window.
Arousal thickens inside me. Tension clenches my muscles. Pressure builds like I’m about to explode. Every last drop of blood feels like it’s shot to my dick and made me uncomfortably erect on the spot.
Just from the sexy fucking sight before me.
It’s safe to say, I’ve had more women throw themselves at me than ninety-nine percent of the male population. A perk I’ve taken advantage of a hell of a lot in my life. Women of all shapes, colors, creeds, ages. If you wanted to, you could probably find a woman in all fifty states who I’ve fucked and many from around the world too.
I love all parts of the female anatomy—legs, tits, ass, thighs, pussy. Especially pussy.
But there’s something unique about Marisse March that wakes every cell in my body up. Intense attraction that surpasses reason. It burns in my blood and sets my pulse racing. I have to have her.
There’s no other possible outcome. My need is too great. The hunger too visceral.
We’re enemies yet I couldn’t give less of a fuck—she’s no less mine.
And right now, there’s nothing I want more than her beautiful pair of tits in my mouth.
I suspected from the first moment I saw her wrapped in that silky tease of a blouse that she had a great pair. Knew it the night I was in her hotel room.
Nice and full, shaped like teardrops, with dusky pebbled nipples a shade darker than the rest of her smooth honey skin.
All I can think of is candy. Candy I’d like to have in my mouth. Her sweetness invades my taste buds just imagining my lips on them.
Sugar Tits.
My throat bobs getting the words out. I’m leering. “Jesus fucking Christ, those are some nice tits. C’mere, Sugar—I’ve got to know once and for all what those tits taste like.”
I’m a liar because I don’t even wait for her to reach me. I stand up from where I’m leaning on the minibar counter and my quick strides cut her off. She shrieks as I rip her off her feet like she weighs nothing. She swings through the air as I lift her up and slide her onto the counter.
Our height more equal now, I plant a deep kiss on her. If I ever had an ounce of control where she’s concerned, it’s gone now.
From the first lash of my tongue, I’m a goner. Her mouth’s too soft and warm. Her taste’s too addictive and her tongue feels too damn good against mine.
Heat boils over inside me. It floods my dick and makes me harder than fucking titanium. I feast on her lips without restraint. She slips into the rhythm with me, kissing like there’s no tomorrow. There’s no more oxygen left in the room and we’re surviving off each other.
But there’s no stopping either—we’ve started something that’s about to raze us down.
The room fades out. Our surroundings blur. We move off instinct and desire, Marisse clutching at my forearms. Her nails scratch lines on my rough skin. I hold her face in my hands ’til our kisses become so wild and frantic, I’m sucking on her tongue. She’s clinging to me, melting into me.
Her sounds are soft and eager. Breathless mewls that are both erotic and uncontrolled.
She’s falling apart in the same way I am.
I grope a breast into my hand, squeezing the soft mound hard, roughly pinching at her nipple. The sharp pain makes her flutter out another reckless breath. Sucking her tit into my mouth makes her entire body shudder.
I flick the tip of my tongue along her pebbled nipple, then suck hard like I’m waiting for a drop of milk.
A drop of fucking sugar.
Marisse can’t take it. She mewls. She thrashes. I curl an arm around her waist, licking and sucking at her. Forcing her to stay put and take the torture.