Page 22 of Hot & Bothered

He tipped his gaze up to meet hers.

Jesus, she nearly came on the spot from how hot that was. His mouth on her, his fingersinher, his eyes watching her. She had to do some serious self-talk to keep her body from jumping over the edge.

A sly expression slid into his gaze as his eyelids dropped to half-mast and he gave one final flick to her clit with his tongue, one last press of her G-spot, and he slid his fingers free. As he stood up, he reached behind his head and pulled off his shirt.

Even though she knew exactly what he looked like naked, the sight of his torso once more left her slack-jawed and speechless. He unfastened his jeans next and removed his socks, leaving nothing but his black boxer briefs on and a sizeable tent.

Then he scooped his hands under her butt and front piggyback-style, carried her out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom. It was a one-bedroom condo, so the only other option would have been to turn left into the bathroom.

They collapsed onto the bed, him on top of her. She scrambled to free him from his boxers, and he made quick work of her bra. Last, he tugged her panties down her thighs while she rooted around in her nightstand for a condom.

In under a minute, they were both naked, he was sheathed in Latex and hovering over the top of her. As he slowly lowered himself, she released a sigh of relief. His weight was calming. Like a weighted blanket or deep pressure. She reached between them before he sunk any further, grabbed his shaft, and angled it right where she needed it.

His lips found hers, bringing the taste of her own arousal along with wine and berry crumble. Once he was notched at her core, he lifted his head, breaking their kiss, and their eyes locked. Slowly, he inched forward, filling her.

She spread her legs a little wider, bending her knees and planting her feet on the bed.

He took his time, sliding across her slick channel with a laziness that both frustrated and excited her. She wasn’t going to last long.

If he grunted and his lower belly grazed her clit in a very specific way, she knew she’d be a goner. She lived for the grunt.

For the deep, gravelly, primitive sound that men made to convey so many thoughts. And during sex it meant that they were so tangled up in the pleasure, their brains couldn’t form words. The blood had left their head and was concentrated further south, so all they could do was grunt.

And she loved it.

She wanted Jace to go feral on her. To grunt and groan and claim her as his.

Dropping his head for a moment, he scraped his teeth along her jaw, then nipped that spot where her neck and shoulder met, before lifting his head again and catching her gaze once more.

He still wasn’t even completely inside her yet. There was more of him to go, and yet she already felt so full. The stretch was riveting.

He inched in a little further.

Her eyes widened.

He smiled.

Another inch.

She exhaled through thinly parted lips, determined not to let go just yet.

Tilting his hips just slightly, his lower belly brushed her clit.

Her pussy spasmed.

His smile grew bigger.

She swallowed.

Another inch.

Her mouth opened wide as she stared deep into his eyes.

He moved forward a little more and then … he grunted.

She couldn’t hold on anymore and, like a dam erupting after a monsoon, she exploded.

Her eyes slammed shut and her body went rigid.

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