Page 135 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

Fun. What a concept.

A return smile grows on my face, I lower to my knees and undo his belt, eyes locked to his.

I want to burn this image into my memory forever: Storm looming over me as I rest at his feet, both of us waiting in anticipation for our flesh to meet.

Releasing his belt from the loops at his waist and unfastening the snaps, I twitch when the scratch of the zipper lowering fills the room. I take a moment to breathe before grabbing his pants and black boxers in one smooth movement, leaving them to pool at his feet.

“Oh,wow,” I say, and I lick my lips when his cock springs past the confines of his clothes, aiming for me as if it were a heat-seeking missile.

My mouth waters as a wild thought pops into my brain.

I want to suck this man down to the back of my throat more than I want anything else on this planet.

I reach my hand toward his dick, already imagining the thickness as I stretch my lips and fingers around it, but he pulls me to stand.

“Wha—”

Storm’s lips crash into mine.

Behind my closed eyelids, a kaleidoscope of colors flash in the darkness, shooting me into the cosmos. My palms register his bare chest, my core rocking toward his lower half, seeking out the pleasure I know he will give me.

He pulls away and fully steps out of his pants, kicking them to the side.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” His words are a snap as he pants, and he puts his hand on the back of my neck, controlling my head movements. He doesn’t let me look away from him.

“M-my breasts. I want you to touch my breasts.”

He lets my request linger in the air, but then, without breaking contact, he uses both hands to cup my skin with a gentleness that has me wanting to latch on to him. He applies pressure to my nipples in the exact way I need for him to draw pleasure from my body.

“Like this, baby?”

God…“Yes,” I say, lightheaded. “That’s?—”

“What else, Sweetness?”

I groan, trying to grasp for…something.

“Are you going to make me narrate everything?” I can tell the humor I’m trying to inject falls flat.

He doesn’t take the bait.

“Tell me what to do or all of this stops, Shae.” To emphasize his point, he releases my tits. “You are in control, Sweetness. Tell me.”

I draw in a breath. “Suck on them, Storm.”

He draws my nipple into his mouth, and I moan deep, clutching at the sides of his head and the short strands that rasp against my palms.

“Oh, sweet Lord above,” I groan, and he chuckles, pulling away from me.

“God’s nowhere near this room right now, baby.”

Well good goddamn.

With a grin that looks devilish, he spins us and I bounce on the mattress.

It takes me a second to even figure out what the hell is happening, but when I register him leaning over my body as I rest on the bed, I feel wanton. I must look it, too—my hair escapes the top knot I pulled it into, my lips swollen from our kisses.

“Keep touching me, Storm,” I say, panting. “Suck on me.”

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