Page 111 of Resurfaced Passion
He pressed his whole body into hers, keeping her pinned to the brick. The bristle of his temper could be felt in his muscles, in the brush of his hot breath when his head came down a hair's breadth from her lips.
“Don’t cock-tease me for my attention when you’ve had it all along. Just come tell me you need my dick, you want my mouth, you need my arms.”
If Paige had any form of protection around her heart it would have crumbled right there hearing the vulnerable rasp to his voice.
Their chests pushed together with every inhale and she met his stare head on. “Reaper?” She waited a beat. “I need your dick. I want your mouth and arms.”
He groaned and it was the only warning she got before his mouth took over her lips.
In his position, she would have battled the green-eyed monster horribly, so when she clung to him as he kissed holy hell out of her, she did it with an apology on her lips.
They parted, noses touched, breaths labored, and Paige had never felt so wanted before. It was strange to feel this steady in a man’s arms, this safe and secure, like she’d always had this place.
She broached something carefully that had flitted through her mind a few times. “Do any of those women inside have a former claim on you?”
“The only woman who has a claim on me is knocking her pelvis into my dick,” he told her and oh-my-god, she really was humping him.
She instantly stopped with heat crawling up into her cheeks.
There was smugness to Reaper’s think accent. He pressed his pelvis, giving her his hardness. “Do you think I can’t feel how your spine bends, baby?” Fingers crawled around and touched where he mentioned. “And how you arch your hips into me. So ready for the fuck?”
He held onto her waist, tight, like he was never letting her go, holding her against the wall with his breath in her face and his intense eyes on her, and for a short second she saw repeated images of a scene so similar, of her beautiful, quiet boy looking down at her with concentrated love in his eyes.
Déjà vu was hitting her more and more lately, making her wonder did she have a relationship as powerful as this before her accident?
God, why did that make her stomach roll with nausea?
She couldn’t visualize feeling for anyone else the way she did about this man.
This was a once in a lifetime kind of romantic feeling. Right?
She freed her arms from between them and rubbed up to his shoulders, back and forth until his chuffing breath settled into a regular inhale. He placed a soft kiss to her forehead, in no great rush to move, and neither was Paige.
Once he’d calmed down she reached down to his hand, unfurling his tight fist and she took the now crumpled cigarette, crushing it into crumbs she dropped it to the floor. “I don’t want you smoking.” Two brows lifted high. “I mean it, Reaper. I don’t want you getting lung cancer. Not when you just gave me all your attention.”
His mouth came crashing down on hers. There was no need to force her lips open, they were waiting for his tongue and she moaned when he gave it.
“Bossy, aren’t you?” He licked and sucked.
“Caring.” She poked him in the belly, laughing a little when he roped her in. “I care that you don’t get sick and die.”
His smile devastated her heart with how sincere it was spreading across his face. “I care about you too, Paige.”
Another drop kiss. Paige wanted more so she went up on her tiptoes, brushed his soft lips, feeling the scrape of day-old stubble on her skin.
“Do you want to go back inside, take me to that little room again, and make out?”
She wasn’t quite daring enough yet to come out and ask him to fuck her. But that was her gist.
Reaper must have caught on too because he looked like he was going to maul her right there against the side of the building.
Fortunately she was saved any exhibitionist shame when he took her hand and lead her inside, ignoring the glances from people, they were at that room in no time, the lock turning made an awful racket through Paige’s horny body.
Her heart thundered—great roaring thumps, because the very second he had the lock turned he also pushed Paige up against the door and delivered on a hot movie kiss.
This wasn’t making out; this was an experience straight from heaven. Any second now she expected Saint Peter to clear his throat and to tell them to get a room.
Swaying in her classic tennis shoes, when he freed her kiss-swollen lips, she grabbed onto his forearms for balance, the heat of his eyes burning down through her hoodie and directly tweaking her hard nipples.
