Page 97 of Fast Vengeance

Pinning her. Dominating her.

“Brock,” she whispered, moaned when he nibbled and nipped at the side of her neck, pulled her pelvis tight to his erection and rocked into her.

Her hands slid under the hem of his shirt to touch his abdomen. The instant her palms made contact with his bare skin, a wave of lust crashed over him, so strong it stole his breath.

He should slow down. Carry her into the cabin, his shoulder be damned, build a fire and lay her down in front of it, make love to her there. Make it romantic, show her how much she meant to him.

That she was everything to him.

But he was starving for her. And if he didn’t get inside her soon he might actually die right here on this dock. “Need you,” he muttered, nipping the tender spot where her neck and shoulder met. “Need you so much, angel.”

She gasped and arched into him. “Need you too.”

Holding her close he spun them around, searching for the deck chairs. They were a few yards away, and they had long cushions on them.

He lifted her off her feet with his good arm around her waist and carried her over, his mouth on hers. As soon as her feet touched the dock he reached down and grabbed the cushions, jerking them off onto the wooden planks into a low stack.

He pulled her down on top of them, stretched her out on her back and began taking her clothes off. She sat up and helped, carefully peeled his shirt off. He hid a wince as his right shoulder pulled but he didn’t care about the pain as he sat back on his heels to drink in the sight of her.

She was gorgeous in the moonlight, all that golden skin, her entire body bared to his ravenous gaze. He’d never felt this desperate, this possessive. He wanted to mark her. Claim her in a way that no one ever had or would. She was his and only his.

He wanted her to feel that inside and out. “Should never have let you go,” he muttered. “Ever.”

Her dark eyes gazed up at him, soft with trust, full of arousal. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, as though she sensed his inner battle. “I’m here now. Don’t stop,” she whispered.

He groaned and surged forward to take her mouth again, covering her with his body. Adjusting his weight on his left arm to take the strain off his healing shoulder. “Can’t slow down,” he bit out between kisses.

She answered by winding her legs around his hips. Something inside him snapped. He stopped thinking, stopped fighting the need lashing him and set about claiming his woman.

He cupped her breasts in his hands and sucked on the taut peaks, reveled in her sighs, the sexy movements she made as he teased one, then the other, before moving down the center of her body. He pushed her knees apart, exposing her glistening folds to his gaze. With a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl, he knelt, gripped her hips hard and buried his face between her legs.

Her choked cry spurred him on even more, the desperate bite of her fingers in his scalp pushing him to make her beg. He focused on making her insane, loving every twist of her hips as he licked and sucked at her softest flesh, drove his tongue into her warmth, his cock throbbing, desperate for the moment when he slid deep inside her.

Only when she was gasping, begging did he ease off and surge up to cover her once more with his weight. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, glazed with pleasure as she gazed up at him.

And then she slowly raised her hands over her head. Surrendering full control of her body to him.

The gesture made his heart explode with tenderness.

He laced his fingers through hers, squeezed in reassurance. She relaxed underneath him, rolled her hips as she held his gaze. Her willingness to surrender control to him turned him inside out, symbolized not only her absolute trust in him, but saying that she was his.

He couldn’t wait a second longer to be inside her.

Unable to hold back, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, slid a condom on. Settling most of his weight on his left forearm, he ignored the twinge in his right shoulder and slid home with a single thrust.

Making her his once more.

VICTORIA SUCKED IN a sharp breath as Brock pushed deep inside her, her eyes sliding closed against the burn of tears. Not from pain. From being connected with him as intimately as she could. From feeling like she belonged to him.

But there was also pleasure. So much pleasure, emotional and physical as he pinned her beneath him and took her the way he needed to. The way she wanted him to.

He moaned her name, his muscles bunching beneath her hands, her thighs as she twined them around his hips. “Love you,” he gasped out. “Love you so goddamn much.”

Her heart split wide open. She had dreamed of hearing those words from him for so long, hadn’t dared to let herself hope she ever would, before. “Sweetheart, I love you too,” she answered, emotion clogging her throat.

He growled and pinned her harder. Even then there was no fear, no pain. She stared up into his beautiful, scarred face, half in shadow and half in moonlight and fell impossibly more in love with him.

Wrapping her arms around him, she cradled him close as he pumped in and out, the almost feral sounds coming out of him sending a thrill through her. He was working up to an explosion and she didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

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