Page 71 of When the Smoke Clears

The muscle is tender from riding, but it feels good to work it out anyway.

All at once, he drops down to his knees, grabbing my hips with his hands, and leans in to kiss the stitched area. The warmth of his lips combined with the tenderness of his touch is oddly erotic, and I lay my hands on his head.

He tucks his thumbs into my jeans and slides them off me before rising. Wetness pools between my legs.

I hardly breathe, entranced as he slowly opens the front of his shirt, button by excruciating button. I don’t dare move. The anticipation of what he plans to do is killing me, but I know with one wrong move he’ll go back into protector mode.

I may actually die if he stops.

I lick my lips, not taking my eyes off his hands, which remove his undershirt next, leaving his tanned, muscular body on display before me. My hands rise and fall. If I touch him, will he stop?

He moves on to his belt, unbuckling it in the slowest fashion possible. His stormy eyes pin me in place, confidence, seduction, and pure hunger radiating from him.

Finally, his jeans fall to the ground, and I can’t take it anymore. I take a tiny step forward. He watches intently but doesn’t stop me. My hands travel the planes of his chest, fingers tracing along the muscles, eliciting shivers throughout his body.

His fingers slip under mine and he intertwines them together, pulling them to his mouth, where he kisses my knuckles in succession. When his gaze comes back to mine, there’s a sensation that he’s going to shatter me and rebuild me anew.

“I know you’re healing, and I’m going to take good care of you, but I can’t go another day without making love to you, Maci.” His declaration has a question mark, as he waits for my approval. As if I could deny him.

I nod with a smile.

With a slight bend, he slides his hands down the backs of my thighs, gripping firmly just above the back of each knee and lifting me off the ground. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me to the bedroom, claiming my mouth in a searing kiss, my hands gripping his neck. Our bodies transfer warmth back and forth. His erection presses against my center, and I’m dying for him to be inside of me. With one hand, he releases the clasp of my bra and I slip it down, tossing it to the side.

Carefully, he lays me back on the bed, looming over me on all fours. The fact that he still has boxer briefs on and I’m in my panties is entirely too much. “Too many clothes,” I breathe, and reach for the waistband on him.

He grips my wrist firmly. “Let me take care of you.” I nod, my head surrounded again by the ridiculous number of pillows. Something I’ve grown fond of.

Once he’s naked, he slides his fingers into my lacy waistband and slowly lowers the delicate material down my legs. A chill races over my skin as warmth pools in my core. He takes to the bed on his knees, speaking in a low, warm voice that saturates my limbs. “Look at you. All mine.”

“Yes.”

He leans over me, kissing me deeply before licking and kissing a trail down my body. My deep inhale brings with it the worn leather scent of him. His tongue circles around one pebbled nipple. My back arches, and he bites the nipple between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Moving to the other nipple, he follows the same method, biting harder this time. I groan and arch deeper.

A calloused hand grabs each knee, spreading me open before trailing his fingertips along the inside of my thigh. He traces over my pubic bone and rests just above my throbbing center.

“I can’t wait to be inside you, but I can’t go without a taste.”

The anticipation causes my heart rate to skyrocket.

His thumb circles my clit in a whisper and my hips buck. I’m highly combustible in his hands. He always knows just how to touch and tease me to gain the reaction he seeks. A deep chuckle fills the space between us, followed by my heavy breathing. He doesn’t relent. “Miss me, Firecracker?”

“Cowboy, what have I told you about teasing?” My hips rock against his hand.

The circling stops. “What are you going to do about it?”

Our push and pull is one of my favorite things about our relationship. Sutton’s ability to take my body to places it’s never been is in large part because I let him handle me at his discretion. A vulnerability I’ve never offered to a partner until him.

I prop myself up on my elbows and he eyes me suspiciously. His thumb traces lightly over the sensitive skin surrounding that bundle of nerves, driving me wild. And I let him.

“Nothing.”

He tilts his head to one side in question.

“I’m not going to do anything, because I know that you take care of what’s yours. You’ll do the same with me.”

He blows a cool breath at my clit. “Is that so?”

My head falls back between my shoulders at the fiery chill that shoots through me. “Yes. I want you to have your way with me.” My core sends down a wave of arousal at my admission. Giving myself to him is a high I never anticipated.

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