Page 210 of Fiery Romance

Island sits up, her eyes fixed on the photo. “How long has that been up there?”

“Since the day I packed up Anya’s pictures. After you and I broke up, I didn’t have the heart to take it down. I couldn’t bear to—”

She surges up and kisses me.

I lock my lips around hers, tracing my tongue along the seam of her mouth and caressing her back like it’s a harp on a cruise ship.

Island eases away and watches me with eyes half-open. “Sorry. I thought that was our thing. Cutting each other off with kisses.”

“I won’t complain if you don’t.”

She smiles, her eyes shining bright in the sunshine. “I love you, Clay.”

“Then you won’t mind if I tear this shirt off,” I grunt.

She shrieks as I use my strength to bust her fancy shirt wide open. Buttons nearly pop me in the eye. I waste no time, destroying her bra and sending that flying too.

“My shirt!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” I grunt.

The rest of her scolding stalls in her throat as I descend. Angry brown eyes turn to black pools of desire. Dark fingers dig into my scalp. Long nails scrape the back of my head, increasing the pressure as I lick my way across her chest, teasing her with my tongue.

“What are you doing?” She whimpers.

“Taking my time.” I breathe harshly. “I don’t plan to let your feet touch the floor until night falls.” My warning is uttered against her warm skin. “I’m going to rip you apart like I ripped that shirt and then I’m going to put you back together.” Goosebumps skitter over her flesh and I chase them down with my lips. “But when I rebuild you, you’re going to have a little more than you came with. Because I’m going to give you a piece of me, so that I’m never complete without you.”

“Clay,” she breathes.

“Do you understand?”

She nods.

I tilt her chin with my fingers. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes.”

I reward her with another slow exploration of my tongue. She groans and arches back, her mouth open and spilling the most beautiful sounds.

“So stunning,” I mumble, worshiping her soft skin and leaving tender kisses down to her ribs.

Island trembles with hunger. “Please, Clay.”

I sit up, straddling her, and rip my shirt over my head. She watches it all, licking her lips like I’m her next meal. I admit, I flex my muscles a bit more than I have to. Her admiring eyes make it worth the effort.

Island slides her hands flat down my abs.

I hiss at the light scrape of her fingernails against my skin.

“Someone’s been working out,” she murmurs.

“You have no damn idea,” I growl, thunder in my throat. What else could I do when I missed her more than I could express? What else could I do when I saw a woman on the street with her dark complexion or her type of braids, only to realize it was someone else. Someone who wasn’t Island. What else could I do when the nights were long and all I wanted was her in my arms?

“I didn’t want to think of you with some other guy, so I hit the gym.”

She frowns, probably remembering the time we spent apart.

But I don’t want her to feel sad. I want her to pay.

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