Page 70 of Wild Desire

It was the perfect day. Hopefully, we'd spend the evening licking syrup off each other's bodies, and I'd block any thoughts about the future.

In the condo, he pushed me against the closed door and kissed me, still holding the boxes in his hands.

"The syrup," I reminded him as he set everything on the counter. He snagged one small bottle, then grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall.

We hurried, and I couldn't stop the giggle that erupted from my mouth.

In his room, he placed the container on the nightstand, opening it so it was ready to pour. Then he glanced at his comforter. "This could get messy fast."

I began taking off my clothes while he ran into the bathroom, grabbing towels and placing them over the bed. I stretched out on the towel, naked. He stood next to the bed, seemingly transfixed. I touched my nipple with one hand, and the second drifted lower as I widened my legs. "What are you waiting for?"

He sprang into action, pulling his shirt over his head, toeing off his shoes, and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Hurry," I said as he rushed through the motions and grabbed the bottle, tipping it over my body.

"I can't wait to taste you."

My skin heated at the promise in his gaze. Then he drizzled the syrup over my nipples. I startled from the chill.

He set the bottle aside and moved between my legs. He didn't waste any time licking the stickiness from the globe of my breast and then my nipple.

I didn't care about the mess or that we'd have to take a shower; I never wanted him to stop. My fingers curled in the hair at the back of his head as I held him to me. It was a day I'd never forget, and I'd never look at maple syrup the same.

I'd probably always remember his tongue licking it off my body. He turned his attention to my other breast, and I arched against him, needing to feel the friction.

"Patience."

I wanted him so badly; I couldn't hold still.

"I'm not nearly done with you yet," he warned as he moved down my stomach, licking up the syrup as he went. It was the single hottest moment of my life. I'd never combined any kind of food with sex. The act was far more intimate than I expected.

We had time to play with each other, to enjoy life together. It was a heady feeling. One I didn't want to let go of. I was enjoying it too much.

He eased my legs wider and settled between them, lapping at the dollop of syrup he'd generously poured on my clit.

I whimpered as he tugged the swollen bud into his mouth.

"Do you like when I eat syrup off your body?" he asked, his voice low.

"So much." It heightened all my senses, made me hyperaware of every sensation. The roughness of his fingers, the softness of his tongue, the bite of his teeth. I wanted more.

But he was teasing me.

I reached for him. "Killian, I need you inside me."

"Mmm. I have to clean this syrup off of you first."

I groaned as he moved lower, closer to my center. I cried out as he used a finger inside me, curling it over that bundle of nerves deep inside me. The orgasm building was coming from somewhere within me, threatening to be bigger than anything I'd ever experienced.

He sat up slightly, his fingers continuing to move inside me. "I want to see you come." Then he lowered his mouth to my clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers moving in tandem tore through my resolve. My body shook, spasming around his fingers. My muscles trembled, my back arching off the bed, and my eyes slammed shut as stars burst behind my eyelids.

I whimpered as he removed his fingers and moved up my body.

"Do I need a condom?"

I met his gaze, seeing nothing but affection and desire. "I'm clean."

"Me too. But do you trust me?" His gaze searched my expression for assent.

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