Page 28 of Consume Me
Her fingers clutch at my shirt, curling in the fabric like she’s trying to anchor herself. My own hands slide up her arms, over her shoulders, memorizing every line and curve. The shirt she’s wearing, my shirt, is too much of a barrier, and I want her—skin to skin, heat to heat.
I break the kiss just long enough to tug the shirt up. She raises her arms without a word, letting me pull it over her head. The fabric falls to the floor, forgotten.
And then… gods above.
Her skin is soft and pale in the firelight, the curve of her breasts exquisitely perfect. My gaze lingers, greedy, taking in the flush blooming over her cheeks, the way her breath quickens under my scrutiny. She shifts beneathmy perusal, self-conscious, and it only makes me want her more.
“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” I tell her.
I reach out and cup one breast, my thumb brushing over the tightened peak. She inhales sharply. Before that breath is even gone, I’m leaning down, replacing my thumb with my mouth.
She lets out a sound—half gasp, half moan—and it goes straight to my cock, hardening me until my control is a frayed thread. I close my lips around her, suckling gently at first, then harder when her fingers tangle in my hair. The taste of her skin, the way she arches into me, the small, desperate noises she tries to swallow… they’re all maddening.
My free hand slides to her waist, splaying over her hip to keep her pressed to me. I want her to feel the effect she’s having on me, the length and heat of my arousal straining against my trousers. Her scent fills my head, thick and sweet, the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever breathed in.
The mate-bond hums between us, not gentle—never gentle—but fierce and demanding. It pulls at me, drags me closer until I’m not sure where I end and she begins.
“Gods, Kendall…” Her name is a growl I make against her skin. I drag my mouth away from one breast only to claim the other, my teeth grazing her nipple before I soothe the bite with my tongue.
She gasps again, her head tipping back, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat. My beast wants it. All of it.My teeth on her skin, my claiming mark against her throat, her body sated and wrecked beneath me.
But I’m not done yet.
My hand leaves her hip, slides lower, finding the waistband of her shorts. Something loose falls to the couch cushion. I pick it up, examining it as Kendall groans.
“Is this part of my comb?” I ask.
“Maybe?”
I look down at her, more intrigued than anything. “Why?”
“In case I needed a weapon,” she says, and even though I can see she’s trying to remain dignified, her cheeks are flushing bright red.
I clamp down on the laughter that bubbles up. “I see.”
Very seriously, I hand the comb’s tooth back to her.
“I’m good,” she mumbles, offering a shake of her head.
“Darling,” I whisper as I toss the comb’s tooth onto the table and lean toward her beautiful body. “Youarethe weapon.”
I pause just long enough for her to glance down at me, her pupils blown wide with arousal, before I slip my fingers inside her.
The heat of her nearly undoes me.
I stroke her slowly at first, exploring the slick folds, learning what makes her shiver, what makes her breath hitch. She’s drenched, her body welcoming me like it’s been waiting for this. For me.
When I slide two fingers into her, sheclenches around me—tight, hot, perfect. A low curse escapes me. “You’re so wet,” I rasp, moving inside her, my thumb brushing over her clit in lazy circles.
She makes a sound that’s pure sin—breathless, needy, unguarded—and my restraint shreds. I keep my forehead pressed to hers, drawing those sounds out of her again and again, each one another nail in the coffin of my self-control.
The pull to claim her is a roar in my blood now. My beast is pacing, snarling, desperate to take what’s ours and never let her go.
Her hips rock against me, and I groan.
My words are a desperate rasp. “You’ll kill me before I ever get to?—”
Thump.
