Page 131 of Beyond the Stroke

“Yeah, Wildflower?”

“I want it to be you. Please make me come.”

thirty-six

. . .

SUMMER

I can’t believe I told Rory that no guy has made me come before. It’s the truth, but I’d never planned on sharing that insecurity.

When I told him, I think I actually saw his chest puff up, like he was excited for the challenge and determined to make it happen.

Then, he asked me to say the words. To make it clear to him what I’m asking for.

I’ve already made it this far; there’s no turning back now.

“I want it to be you. Please make me come.” It comes out needier than I’d expected. More desperate. But that’s what I am. Desperate for Rory to touch me. To make me come undone. Because if there’s anyone I trust to be out of control with, it’s him.

Rory’s hands slide over the smooth fabric of my silk gown, skimming down my sides until they rest on my hips.

“This dress has been killing me all night. Maybe I’ll leave it on to prove a point.”

“What point would that be?” I ask.

His hands gather the material of the dress until I can feel cool air on the back of my legs. “That it was never the dress driving me wild.” His voice is low and rough. “It wasyou.”

Rory’s words send a delicious shiver down my spine. I’ve never been this desperate for a man to touch me. I’d all but thought I’d lost that side of myself.

In the next moment his mouth captures mine. This kiss is different than the others we’ve shared. It’s the honesty of two people admitting they want each other and I’ve never felt such a rush. Our lips fuse together and Rory owns every inch of my mouth.

His hands explore my body. My waist, my hips, then finally those large hands grip the flesh of my ass to pull me tighter against him.

I sigh into his touch. I haven’t been touched in so long. And never like this.

“I want to see all of you,” he growls between kisses.

Slipping the straps off my shoulders, the dress flutters into a puddle at my feet, leaving me in nothing but a thong.

“Summer.”

My heart slams against my sternum as Rory’s heated gaze pours over my naked body.

“You’re exquisite.”

With his hands around my waist, he lifts me up onto the closet island. The marble beneath me is cool in contrast to my scorching skin.

Stepping between my parted legs, Rory’s hands lift to cup my breasts while his thumbs trace circles over my nipples. I gasp at the feeling of his warm hands; how big they are and how good it feels. Then, I find myself arching my back to get closer.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Wildflower. Do you like having your tits played with?” he asks, dipping his head down to pull a nipple inside his mouth. It’s warm and wet, and his tongueis masterful as he swipes across my nipple before sucking it between his lips.

“Mmm. I don’t know. I mean, this feels amazing. I like it. But no one’s done it before.”

Rory’s hands stop moving but they remain on my breasts, holding the weight of me in his palms. When his gaze lands on mine, I see the fire blazing in his pupils.

“You asked me to make you come, and I will, but damn it, Summer, every inch of you deserves to be worshipped.” He drops a kiss to my neck. “And that’s what I intend to do.”

I’m not exactly sure what that entails, but the look in Rory’s eyes tells me there’s no room for discussion. He’s got an agenda, and the agenda is me.

---