Page 77 of The Fire We Crave

Everything I have ever read or dreamed about.

His hand skims to the bottom of my nightdress, and as soon as I realize he wants me to remove it, I stand and lift it over my head.

“Grab a condom from the drawer.” He tips his head in the direction of the little nightstand, and I open it. There’s a small bullet vibrator and what looks like a silver butt plug, both in sealed packaging. Next to them are condoms, lubricant, and a variety of ties.

A part of me laments that I’m not the first to do this with Smoke.

The fleeting thought of Melody is quickly dismissed.

“I’m no saint,” Smoke says. “I like sex and I’m not gonna apologize for that. But I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”

I see the wildness start to leave his eyes, and a different kind of intensity replaces it. He moves over and holds the sheet up in invitation.

We’re grown ups, I rationalize.

Smoke isn’t my first either.

So, I climb beneath it with him. When he lets it fall over my body, it forms an intimate cocoon around us.

We both shift onto our side, and I’m hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin, the bristles of the hairs on his legs as they move between mine.

And the size of his cock as it brushes up against me.

But he wastes no time sliding his hand between my legs and brushing his fingertips between my lips. My hips buck, but I raise my leg over his thigh, so he has more room to maneuver.

“You want to know how many times I’ve thought about you masturbating recently?” he asks, his voice a combination of whiskey and gravel.

His lips take mine, leaving me breathless as I try to shake my head.

“Even when I was sitting on Atom’s deck, trying to pay attention to Atom and Wraith and what they were saying when you were at book club, all I could think about was the shades of your pussy. How fucking cute that little strip of hair you have was. How white and thick all your juices were.”

His words ignite a spark inside me. No one has ever spoken to me like this before. I’ve read about it in books. But to experience it, to let the words wash out the doubts I have about myself and my body is a gift I didn’t know I needed.

“You were so brave, carrying on when I stepped into the room and told you what to do. So ready to show me, and tease me, and turn me on.”

He presses his thick finger inside me in a sudden thrust, and I gasp at its presence. He’s so deep, it feels as though his entire fist is pushed right up against me. “But if you ever masturbate in my house again without coming to ask me for permission first, I’ll slap your pussy so hard, you won’t feel like touching it for a week.”

Everything in me shifts and tightens at the threat. Because, God, I want it. I want the sting of humiliation. I want to learn. I want to be. I want to learn how to escape the shame I feel at my thoughts.

“I’ve always known I’ve needed more than I’ve ever gotten. More than just sex. I want your rules and your dominance.”

“Fuck, Quinn,” Smoke says. “You might just be my kind of perfect.” He begins to move his finger, but he grips my chin with his other hand. “Eyes on me.”

He kisses me softly. A complete contrast to the way he’s fingering me so ruthlessly. It’s harder than I have ever done to myself. Then, he bites my lip.

“Ah,” I cry, as he starts to rub me inside.

I want it, and yet, I want to escape it.

Like a massage when your muscles are so tight that it’s painful and glorious at the same time.

“Today, in the bakery? It took everything I had to not pull my cock out and fuck you raw, bent over the counter I know you’ll make baked goods for the whole town on tomorrow.”

“Smoke,” I gasp, trying to stay focused on everything he’s saying while my body runs riot with feelings and sensations.

“Fuck, yes, Quinn. You’re so wet. On a day when I’m not so desperate to fuck you, I’m gonna eat you out, over and over. Let you come on my face and fingers as many times as you can.”

The words filter through my veins, heating me up inside. There’s no mistaking I’m the one he wants tonight.

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