Page 43 of Carnal Urges
FOURTEEN
DECLAN
I know it’s a bad idea, but the woman has an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what to say to push my buttons.
The FBI should hire her for their terrorist interrogation team. There’s not a man on earth whose will to live she couldn’t break.
Holding her head and ignoring her little cry of surprise, I drink deep from her mouth. Her sweet, soft, warm mouth.
Her delicious, feminine, incredible mouth, whose appeal is surpassed only by the feel of her lush tits pressed against my chest. And the small tremor that runs through her as I deepen the kiss. And maybe the way the tension in her body starts to melt until she’s leaning into me, giving me her weight and letting her head fall back as my tongue slides against hers.
When she slips her arms up around my neck and sighs in pleasure, a growl of victory rumbles through my chest.
Can’t kiss, my arse.
I wind an arm around her back, the other around her waist, and pull her closer. She fits perfectly against my body, soft everywhereI’m hard. Pliant everywhere my fingers dig. And curved in all the right places.
The urge to push her down to the floor and fuck her until she’s screaming my name is so strong, it shakes me to my core.
I pull away, breathing hard.
She’s breathing hard, too. We stand there for a silent moment, faces inches apart, hearts pounding, until she licks her lips and says in a husky whisper, “Five out of ten.”
“Bollocks. That was the best kiss you’ve ever had, and you know it.”
“I think you can do better.”
She pulls my head down and fits her mouth against mine.
This time, the kiss is slower. Softer, but somehow deeper. It goes on and on, getting hotter and hungrier, until she’s squirming against me and my dick is a throbbing steel bar.
I flex my pelvis into hers. She moans softly in the back of her throat. When I break away this time, I’m panting and more than a little dizzy.
She opens her eyes and gazes up at me. Cheeks flushed, lips wet, she looks incredible. Satan did a good job when he created her.
“Six,” she breathes. “C’mon, gangster. Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got.”
“That was a fucking ten. And you’re not in charge here.”
She says teasingly, “You keep saying that, but I’m not sure if it’s me you’re trying to convince or yourself.”
I fist a hand into her hair, sink the other into a plush ass cheek, and hold her head steady as I kiss her again.
I don’t stop until she’s grinding her pelvis against mine and mewling like a kitten.
“Ten,”I growl against her mouth.
Without opening her eyes, she says faintly, “Seven and a half. And that’s being generous.”
When I let loose a blistering string of curses in Gaelic, she laughs. It’s low, pleased, and as maddening as it is sexy.
My heartbeat flying, I put my mouth next to her ear. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you, lass?”
“‘Live dangerously and you live right.’”
I pull away and gaze at her, astonished. “Goethe? Now you’re quoting fuckingGoethe?”
She smiles. “Just because I’m cute doesn’t mean my brain is tiny.”
