Page 126 of The Wrong Heart

“Be specific, Melody. Tell me how you want me.”

Jesus… for a guy who never gave much of a fuck about sexortalking, I seem to have progressed into dirty talk pretty effortlessly.

It’s her.

She brings out a side of me I never knew existed—possessive, dominant, savagely protective. I want to own every inch of her. Brand her with my scent, myessence.

Melody drags her fingertips to my hair, tugging at the strands. Then she shoves my face between her thighs until my nose collides with the damp fabric of her panties. “I want you there. Taste me.”

My heart skips, and I freeze. I’ve never done that before—I’ve never eaten a woman out. I’ve never had any desire to.

But then, I’ve never had a desire to do any of this until she came along.

Swallowing down a pathetic surge of apprehension, I breathe in her scent, heady and feminine, emanating potent desire. It spurs me. My cock thickens with need, with an intrinsic yearning to taste her. Another growl erupts, something absolutely virile, and I crook my fingers under the strip of lace, sweeping it down her legs until she’s bare and exposed.

Melody spreads her knees as she leans back against the car hood, a lusty gasp escaping her. She sifts her hands through my hair, urging me close. Demanding I feast. “Please, Parker…”

Fuck.

It’s all I need.

My tongue flicks out, teasing and tasting. Once, twice. Again. She squirms atop the vehicle, a mess of desperation. “More,” she begs.

She’s soaking wet, pulsing and achy. Her hips arch up from the hood, seeking my mouth. A smile curves, a feeling of masculine pride washing over me, ofpower, and I hook her legs over my shoulders and lift her hips until my face is buried between her thighs.

“Ohh…” she moans, writhing beneath me, digging her nails into my scalp.

My own groan mingles with hers as my mouth devours her, my tongue licking and sucking, thrusting inside, then working her clit until she shudders with fierce vibrations.

I fucking love it. I love the way she tastes, the way she reacts to me.

One hand clings to her outer thigh to hold her in place, while the other goes rogue, coasting up her body as her back bows and slipping beneath her halter to palm her breasts.

“Parker, God…”

The way she says my name nearly wrecks me. Lifting my head from her wetness, I grit out, “Fuck, you taste like…”

“What?” she pants, raising up for more contact.

My hand releases her thigh to fumble with my belt buckle, unfastening my jeans until they’re pooled around my ankles with my boxers. I grab my cock and start to stroke before I dive back in. “Like the fucking end of me.”

She arches up when my tongue licks her, bottom to top, and I jerk myself while I work her to orgasm with my mouth.

Moans, squeals, whimpers, gasps.

It’s not long before her thighs are quivering over my shoulders, and her hands are desperately tugging at my hair as her body breaks and crumbles.

Melody comes hard on my tongue, crying out beneath the starry sky, and before she even takes a breath of recovery, I’m yanking her down the hood until I’m situated at her entrance, inching inside. “I need to fill you.Feelyou.” I kiss her, hard and punishing. Claiming. “Tell me you want me.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “I want you. So much.”

Pushing inside with a rough groan, I collapse over her, finding her mouth again and thrusting deep. My hand slides up to the back of her head, protecting her from the windshield as I drive into her, my hips jerking clumsily, already feeling myself becoming unhinged. She’s ruining me and putting me back together at the same time.

Melody squeaks and mewls as I fuck her on the hood of her Camry, both of us still half-clothed but stripped down in every other way. I raise my head to find her eyes sparkling with starlight, and our noses kiss, our foreheads knocking as I cup the base of her skull in my palm with tenderness, yet rail her with punishing strokes.

“I…” My voice fades away, and I’m not even sure what the fuck I was going to say. Probably something mushy and pussy-whipped. Her eyes are pulling these feelings out of me, these deep-seated, complicated emotions, and my mouth is itching to purge them with words.

“What?” Melody clasps my face between her hands, a gentle coaxing. “Tell me.”

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