Page 81 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
Her grip tightens around my neck. She’s so quiet I don’t know what to think. Then she whispers, “And now?”
“Now the sound of your laughter is my favorite wet dream,” I rasp. “The smell of your shampoo gets me hard. You’re all I think about.”
In the dark, the sound of her shallow breathing is too loud. It fills the silence along with my beating heart.
“Zeke,” she breathes. “I’ve always loved you.”
We don’t make it to the bed. I crush my lips to hers and kiss her with all the longing I’ve locked inside.
The floor is hard. The air is cold. None of it matters as we collide and fall. I cover her body with mine, spear my fingers into her soft hair, and invade her mouth with my tongue. Every inch of that hot, wet space is mine in seconds. I stake my claim. I make it my property and groan as she sighs in response.
She tears at my clothes, kissing me, wanting me. We’re ravenous beasts with each other. Our mouths are open, kissing and biting any surface of the other we can touch. I yank her knitted sweater over her head. She unzips my jeans. I don’t know what comes first, my hand on her naked breast or her fingers around my cock, but we both release an agonized groan into each other’s mouths.
“Fuck.” I thrust into her hand. “Your fingers are cold.”
“Yours are ice,” she gasps, arching into me. I pinch her nipple, swallow her gasp with another kiss, then drop my head to take her breast into my mouth. I want to give her heat, to give her comfort and—
“Zeke!” she cries out as my warm mouth hits her cold, sensitive flesh. I glance up, see the pleasure blooming in her unguarded expression, and swirl my tongue around her hard little bud. I kiss and lick down her naked body, taste her goosebumps, and explore every inch of her flesh with insatiable hunger.
All I can think of is how hot she makes me, how I’m going to love her and touch her and sink inside her. And how I desperately hope this time she believes it’s forever.
Thirty-One
Leila
Zeke’s mouth blazes down my body. The stark contrast between that heat and the ice in the air is dizzying. I don’t know where to focus. All my nerve endings are alive—my mind buzzes. My breasts feel heavy and tingly. My pussy pulses and throbs, impatient with the need to have him touch me down there.
He loves me. Always has. I gasp as his hands find my bottom, and he yanks my pants down my hips to my knees.
“Spread your legs, kitty cat.” Charged, erotic thunder has replaced his usual carefree tone.
He plants his hands on my thighs when I’m too slow and opens me. My ankles are trapped in my pants. Cold air rushes in to kiss my wet center, and I suck in a breath.
“Bed,” he grumbles, tugging my pants completely off. “We’re finishing this in bed.”
He picks me up, takes two steps, and drops me onto the mattress. Also cold.
“Don’t worry, darlin’.” He keeps his eyes on me as he slides his jeans down his hips. His erection springs free, jutting toward me with all the eagerness I see in his eyes. “I’ll keep you warm.”
He tucks the blanket around us so we’re in a cocoon of sorts. Then he sweeps another blanket over our heads until we’re in our own little fort. As he braces himself over me, I look into his shadowed eyes.
“Just like old times, huh?” His eyes crinkle.
“I don’t think we were doing this back then.” I reach down and capture his erection.
He groans at the contact, thrusts hard into me, and murmurs, “I should have stayed.” The shadows don’t hide his pained expression. “Should have been your first. Should have shown you everything there is to know about a man’s body.”
“We can pretend.” I whimper as his fingers glide through my slick, needy flesh. “Pretend I’m sixteen and you’re twenty-one. Pretend you’ve had enough of denying yourself. You want me, and no one will get in your way.”
“Yes.” He sinks a finger into my core, then traces his fingertip around my folds, teasing me with his touch. “So fucking wet for me, babe.”
“Mmm.”
“Say it’s for me.”
“It’s all for you, Zeke.”
“Fuck.” He explores me with his fingers, learning every inch down there. “I don’t think I would have waited for sixteen. Fifteen. Maybe fourteen.”
