Page 27 of Crave Me

She licks her lips and opens her mouth wide. I don’t move. I simply watch her take me deep.

“Fuck,” I grunt, curling forward when I feel the back of her throat.

She pops me free from her mouth, strengthening her pulls. “Soon,” she promises, dipping her head down and driving in deeper.

Burning desire engulfs me in an inferno. Every nerve from where she sucks is electrified and shooting jolts of blinding euphoria out to my limbs. My thighs tremble with the desire to pump, the yearning to release turning painful as she intensifies her suction and increases her speed.

But I meant what I said, I won’t hurt her. That doesn’t mean I’m not ready to take her.

I lift her hair away from her face. Her expression is erotic, licentious, yet astoundingly beautiful in her motions. She digs her nails into my hips, encouraging me to thrust and match her speed.

I spit out a slew of swears, ready to come, my heart seconds from detonating. But my need to please and taste her overshadows anything I want for myself. Like a flash of lightning, something switches in me, turning me more savage than man.

My hands wrench her up, lifting her for a sultry kiss as I free her from the last of her clothes. She barely has time to shake her boots off and peel off her socks when my fingers slip between her legs.

“Shit,” Wren says, her head snapping backward as I push in and swirl. I guide her to her bed, attacking her neck with my lips as I explore her slickening core.

Her back bounces off the mattress when we land. I move fast, trailing kisses down her body as I work her.

“Evan,” she moans, her hips tilting rhythmically with my increasing speed.

Fucking hell, never has my name carried so much blatant sex.

My mouth pulls in her straining nipple as I kick off what remains of my clothes. My stare lifts to her face as I nibble, watching her skin redden when what remains of her composure abandons her in a crazed eruption.

I can’t take it when she surrenders to the orgasm that follows. She’s barely finished when another builds.

“Don’t stop,” she whimpers, rocking against my palm. “Please. You’re so fucking hot.”

Her words and actions spiral my aggression. My tongue circles her nipple and my mouth sucks harder, inciting guttural moans. Her legs jerk when she releases, but it’s not enough for me. I prolong her orgasm, easing away when the quivering of her thighs finally recedes.

I ease up slowly, every part of me stiff and hard for her. Despite what I’ve given her, it’s not enough. I want more.

I flip her onto her chest, lifting her lower body onto her knees. She bows her spine backward as I hover over her, meeting me with a grateful and generous kiss. My lips seduce her, passing slowly over her mouth, cheek, and neck as I tease her folds with my thick, throbbing tip.

“Are you ready for me?” I ask.

She trembles as my dense head glides along her velvety core. “Yes,” she whispers, her lids lowering as I make my way in.

It takes time to fill her completely. I stretch her slowly, needing and wanting to make love to her. We groan when I finish pushing through. I angle her chin to see her, kissing her gently as I withdraw and thrust, gradually at first until I find the perfect rhythm.

Her head falls forward, appearing too heavy for her to lift. I pound faster, adjusting my legs on either side of her, alternating from leaning over her with my legs straight and behind her, to bending on one knee, maintaining my pace. But the tighter her body clenches mine, the louder she becomes, and the more she rakes her nails across the sheets, the more I change positions and drive deeper.

I’ve never taken a woman like this. But I’ve also never felt this degree of passion. I’m listening to her body, allowing it to guide me, to show me what she needs to draw out her pleasure and make her scream with bliss.

As hard and fast as I’m going, I can’t stop touching her, kissing her, my mouth tasting every part of her skin I can reach.

My legs bend on either side of her, crouching low as I grip her hips, my pelvis ramming and the sounds of our lovemaking filling the room.

“Jesus, Evan,” she cries out. “Fuck.”

I’m not groaning, or swearing. The animalistic urges she awakens have me roaring. Pain mixes with pleasure in an escalating wave I’m fighting to suppress. But when her body bucks beneath mine and clamps down, I unravel, my release tearing out of me.

My palms smack down on either side of her, barely keeping me from falling on top of her. I can’t catch my breath and neither can she, her shoulders rising and falling harshly. But like before, I don’t want to stop kissing her.

I ease out, cursing and hating the separation as I lower myself to her side. I clasp the back of her neck, seeking her mouth.

“Damn,” she whispers, smiling against my lips when I finally pull away.

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