Page 51 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

We consume each other. I thread my fingers through her hair, needing to taste more of her. Heat drills its way down to my groin. I struggle with the sheet tangled around us, wrenching it free from her hips to find her bare legs.

The denim shorts she’s wearing scarcely cover her round ass. Good. She’s already wearing too much. Especially for what I want to do to her.

She jolts as I pry my hand between us and rub directly above her center. For now I keep my hands outside her clothes, that doesn’t mean I’m not hell bent on making her feel good.

My motions cause her to rip her hot mouth from mine and break our kiss. With wide eyes she stares down, her hips circling in time with my fingers.

“Do you want me to stop?” I rasp.

She shakes her head slowly, her throaty moans goading me to increase my speed.

Christ, it’s all I can do not to tear her clothes off.

She falls forward, her head pushing into my shoulder. I know she likes this, I can hear it. I can feel it. But I want more.

I hook my fingers through the crotch of her tiny shorts and slide them beneath her panties, rubbing them against her slick folds. She cries out, like she’s afraid—like I’m hurting her—despite that her pelvis rocks against my hand with equal force.

I swear out loud because I don’t want to stop. But I won’t scare her, and I refuse to hurt her.

I loll my head to the side, placing my lips against her ear. “Tell me to stop,” I gasp.

“No.”

Her shoulders rise and fall, like she’s crying. I slow my movements, so hot in need of her, I can barely speak. “Trin, if it’s too much . . .”

I start to withdraw my hand, but hers covers mine, keeping me in place. She lifts her head, her lids heavy, her voice strained. That’s when I realize she’s not crying. No . . . she’s just close to coming undone.

“Please, don’t stop,” she rasps. Her lashes flutter as my fingers return to play. “You feelso good.”

It’s all the permission I need. My other hand clamps the back of her neck, yanking her to me for another kiss. Her tongue drives into me deep, showing me how bad she wants me. I want her, too, and ease a finger inside her to show her.

The moment I’m in, I curl my finger, moving it fast. Trinity rolls onto her side, biting back a curse. I follow her, twisting and removing my arm trapped beneath her to pull her shirt loose of her waistband.

I yank her shirt up along with her bra, my mouth finding a perfect pink nipple and drawing it in to suck.

She whimpers, jolting hard.

When she comes, it’s nothing graceful. It’s gritty and sexy as all hell. Her body shudders violently and she clutches my head against her, writhing with pleasure. I wait until the tightening eases around my fingers and her quivers lessen before pulling out.

God, I want her. To grip her tight and ride her harder. But I can’t. This is Trinity. The woman who saved me from me, and from all the dead who followed me home.

For what seems like forever, we simply stare at each other. Her flushed face beautifully split between ardor and happiness. But then she kisses me briefly, and does something I don’t expect.

The long strands of her dark hair pass along my bare chest, brushing my pecs, stomach . . . oh,shit. She yanks my shorts down and takes me deep in her mouth.

I slap my hands against the sheets, twisting them around my hands for something to grip. Between the audible pulls of her mouth and her firm and fast hold, my vision spins and my heart threatens to launch through my chest.

I abandon the sheets and smooth my fingers through her hair, tracing them along her scalp. I grunt when she goes deeper, her speed and flicking tongue making me harder with each pass. My hands gather the strands hiding her face. I want to watch what she’s doing, but I’m not prepared for what I see.

Trin’s face is a blend of lust and passion, puckering her lips like she never wants to let go.

My words release in mangled groans. “Just like that, baby . . . yeah, just like that . . .”

The way I speak, and what I say, seems to please her, spurring her movements with mind-blowing aggression. Her moans vibrate along my length, sending my need for her spiraling over the edge.

I tell her how good it feels and how bad I want her. My reward is her quickening speed and a view of her sexy backside swirling like she’s riding me. I’m turning her on without touching her. But Iwantto touch her and spend the day making love to her.

Damn, will she let me push inside of her?

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