Page 164 of Beyond the Blue Horizon
“I’m pretty sure it’s you who has obliterated all logic,” I murmured.
He suddenly reached out, big hands gripping me by each side of the waist as he hoisted me from where I sat on the couch. He pulled me over to straddle his lap.
I had to bite back the squeal that streaked up my throat.
My hands shot to his shoulders to keep myself steady.
To keep from floating away.
To stop this fall that felt inevitable.
He tilted his head back on the cushion, staring up at me as he released the gruff words, “Or maybe it’s just the two of us together that makes everything go boom.”
“What happens when we get burned?” I rasped.
Theo splayed his palms out wide, gliding them around to grip me by both butt cheeks.
He dragged me forward and rubbed my center against his hard cock.
There was no stopping the gasp, and I arched into him, my back bowing as a flicker of pleasure whipped up my spine.
Edging forward and pressing his mouth to my neck, he kissed up and down. “That burn would feel so nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.” It was a masochist’s admission.
“Whole day, I’ve been thinking about making you come again,” he muttered, hands guiding me in a slow rhythm against him.
Only his jeans and my sleep pants separated us.
The friction the most sublime sort of tease.
“Thinking about the way your body comes alive under my hands. Way you fuckin’ glow when I send you soaring. Want to do it over and over again.”
I whimpered.
“Do you want that, Pipes? Do you want me to send you soaring again?”
“I’ve been thinking about it nonstop. I think I almost got myself fired daydreaming of you.”
Apparently, there was no longer any lying when it came to him.
His chuckle was low. A tremor that skated across the surface of my skin. “Not goin’ to apologize for being a distraction.”
“Because you’re cruel and wicked.” I breathed it like my own praise as my fingers rode up the sides of his thick, tattooed neck, before I grasped the longer pieces of his hair as he rolled me over him.
“How do you feel so good?” I whimpered quietly.
It was kind of ridiculous that he could wind me up to nearly boiling by merely rubbing himself against me.
He punted me one of those arrogant smirks. The one that made him look dark and delicious and like every single thing I should never want.
“Barely touching you.”
“And it’s almost too much.”
“You want me to stop?” It was a seductive threat.
“I’ll stab you if you do,” I wheezed.
