Page 110 of Wilde and Deadly

Davey arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Distracting you,” she said, stepping into his space. “Daphne had a point.”

His hands found her hips instinctively, but there was hesitation in his touch. “Which point exactly?”

She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the tension coiled beneath the surface. “Breathe, eat, fuck.” She leaned in, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “And we both know which one we need right now.”

Davey let out a rough exhale, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against hers. “Rowan…”

She kissed him. Hard. She felt his resistance, the constant weight he carried, but as her fingers wove into his hair and she pressed closer, his walls began to crack. His lips fused with hers, each kiss increasing in urgency as her touch shattered his self-control. She playfully tugged at his lower lip, drawing a deep, primal growl from his chest.

“Jesus, Ro. You’re trouble.”

“The best kind,” she shot back, her voice breathless as she slid her hands under his shirt, her nails scraping against the hard planes of his abs. She pushed the fabric up impatiently, breaking away just long enough to yank it over his head and toss it to the floor. God, he was a fucking masterpiece—broad shoulders, a chest carved from granite, and a trail of dark hair leading down to the waistband of his pants that made her mouth water.

Her fingers danced down his torso, tracing every dip and curve of muscle with deliberate slowness. She lingered just below his navel, her touch feather-light, and he jerked away with a strangled laugh.

“That’s right.” A wicked grin spread across her face. “You’re ticklish.”

His eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “Don’t even think about it, Hellcat.”

“Too late.” She dug in, skittering her fingertips across his skin in a flurry of feather-light touches. Davey jerked, a strangled laugh escaping as he tried to twist away from her merciless assault.

“Rowan, I swear to God—” His threat dissolved into another burst of laughter as she found a new weak spot along his ribs near his tattoo.

His hands shot out, capturing her wrists in a firm grip. With a swift, fluid motion, he spun her around, pinning her back against his chest. “You’re playing with fire, Hellcat,” he growled, his breath hot against her ear as he ground his hips into her ass.

Her pulse raced, desire pooling low in her belly. She arched back, grinding against the ridge of his arousal. “Maybe I like the heat.”

A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his chest. “Careful what you wish for.” His hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When he reached her hips, he gripped them tightly, pulling her flush against him so she could feel every inch of his hard cock straining against his pants.

She bit back a moan, her head falling back against his shoulder as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. His teeth grazed her pulse point, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. She reached back, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him close as he nipped and sucked at her neck, marking her in a way that made her thighs clench.

Davey’s hand slipped under her shirt, calloused fingers brushing against the swell of her breast before finding her nipple already hard and aching. He rolled it between his fingers, giving it a firm tug that shot straight down the center of her body to pool between her legs.

“I want to fuck you,” she hissed, spinning in his arms and crashing her mouth against his in a searing kiss. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, nails biting into flesh as she pulled him impossibly closer.

He groaned into her mouth, the sound raw and needy as his hands slid down to cup her ass, squeezing roughly as he ground his hips against hers. The friction sent jolts of pleasure ricocheting through her body, stoking the flames higher.

“Do you, Hellcat? Right here where anyone could walk by and hear you screaming my name?”

“Yes, right here.” Rowan tore her mouth away, gasping for air, her pulse a wild drumbeat in her ears. “Right now. Only you’ll be the one screaming.” She shoved him back, step by step, until his legs hit the desk—then pressed forward, palms flat against his shoulders, and forced him down onto the polished wood with a wicked grin. Papers scattered across the surface, a pen clattered to the floor, and a half-full glass of water teetered dangerously at the edge.

Davey let out a sharp breath, his head tipping back to eye the glass for half a second before his gaze snapped to hers—dark, heated, full of challenge.

She slid off her pants and climbed onto his lap, straddling the solid strength of his thighs. The heat of him burned through the thin fabric of her underwear. She rolled her hips, grinding against the thick ridge of his erection.

“Fuck, Rowan,” he groaned, hands gripping her ass, pulling her closer as he thrust up to meet the motion of her hips.

“I already told you, that’s the plan.” She leaned down, capturing his mouth in another searing kiss as she fumbled with the button of his pants. She needed him inside her, needed to feel his skin against hers, to lose herself in the heat and passion that always consumed them. Finally the button slipped free and she pulled down the zipper of his fly.

He was bare underneath. Of course. She had yet to see him in any kind of underwear. His erection sprung free, thick and hard against her palm.

“What should I do with this?”

“Whatever you want, Hellcat,” he said between clenched teeth, his fingers digging almost painfully into the globes of her ass.

“AnythingI want?”

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