Page 80 of Desert Loyalties
Still mine. As much now as the day I claimed her. Maybe more.
"Smells amazing," she says, tossing the heels toward the hallway. She walks barefoot across the hardwood floor.
I wipe my hands on a towel and meet her halfway. She melts into me without a word, arms wrapping around my middle. I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. Her scent mixed with the perfume, sweat, city dust. All of it mine.
“Handmade pasta,” I murmur into her skin.
She pulls back just enough to raise an eyebrow. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
My answer is a kiss. I meant for it to be chaste but Skye deepens the kiss, tangling her tongue with mine. Her fingers find my shirt buttons as she walks me backward. My spine hits the dining table and she presses against me, warm and demanding. The scent of oregano and garlic mingles with her perfume.
"Dinner can wait," she breathes against my mouth.
I grip her waist, turning around and lifting her onto the polished wood surface. She gasps as the cool surface meets her thighs, her pants already halfway to her knees. The pool lights cast dancing shadows across her flushed skin.
"You're going to ruin my table setting," I growl, sweeping aside plates and silverware with one arm. Crystal glasses chime as they hit the floor.
"Good," she whispers, pulling me between her legs. Her nails rake down my chest as I claim her mouth again, harder this time. She tastes like mine.
Something animalistic comes over me and I shove her backwards, pinning her wrists above her head with an insistent grip. Her eyes fly wide open not with fear, but with an intense craving that matches my own. The need to take her is a storm inside me, and I yank her pants off completely, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Her breath is ragged, but she's ready.
"Spread your legs," I demand, my voice rough with the urgency of my desire.
She responds without delay, her thighs falling open. The sight of her laid bare and waiting has me throbbing painfully againstmy zipper, and I clumsily free myself with my other hand, not bothering to strip completely. I have to have her this instant.
"You're mine," I growl, aligning myself. "Say it," I insist.
"I'm yours," she gasps, arching up to meet me with desperate anticipation.
I thrust into her without warning, driving into her fully. She cries out, her body tensing as it clutches every inch of me. The table creaks beneath us as we move with wild abandon. I tear her shirt open, buttons scattering across the table. The sight of her lace-covered breasts heaving with each breath takes my breath away. Mine. All fucking mine.
"Drake," she whimpers as I roughly yank her bra down, exposing her perfect tits to the cool air. Her nipples harden instantly, begging for my touch.
"You think you can tease me like this?" I growl, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. "Coming home, bending over in those tight pants after making me wait all day?"
"I knew exactly what I was doing," she admits, her voice a sultry whisper that feeds the fire raging inside me.
I release her wrists only to grip her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her eyes dilate with dark desire. My other hand slides between her legs, finding her slick and ready.
"So fucking wet for me," I hiss, my thumb circling her clit as I drive deeper. "Always ready to be filled by me."
Her walls clench around me, and I feel her pulse quickening under my palm. The power I have over her body intoxicates me.Each thrust is punctuated by her gasps and the scrape of the table against the floor.
"Please," Skye begs, though for what, mercy or more, I can't tell. I give her the latter.
"Turn over," I command, withdrawing suddenly. The loss makes her cry out in frustration.
I grab her hips roughly and flip her over, admiring the curve of her ass as she braces herself on trembling arms. Her hair cascades down her back, and I gather it in my fist, pulling just enough to arch her spine. The sight of her positioned before me, vulnerable and waiting, sends a surge of primal possession through my veins.
"Look at you," I growl, running my free hand down the curve of her spine. "Displayed on my dining table like the only meal I want to devour."
She whimpers as I position myself behind her, teasing her entrance with my tip. I'm rock hard, throbbing with need, but I make her wait for it. Make her feel the anticipation.
"Who owns this?" I demand, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a pink handprint.
"You do," she gasps, pushing back against me desperately
"Fuck me," she begs. "Please."
