Page 62 of Home for Justice
“I know we just ate,” he said, a little roughness in his voice, “but would you like something to drink?”
Justice turned toward him fully, catching his hands in hers. His big, capable fingers curled around hers instinctively. She stared up into his face and slowly shook her head.
“No, thank you,” she said, her voice steady now, thick with emotion. “I don’t want anything to drink. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to listen to music or go through all the steps people think they’re supposed to before something real happens.” Her hands squeezed his gently, needing him to understand. “If we start doing all that, I think my nerves would just... explode.”
For a beat, he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, squeezing her hands back, he said gently, his voice a velvet promise, “Sweetheart, you’re in control here. There’s no pressure. No expectations. It’s just you and me. Whatever happens... happens because you want it.”
“I don’t want to do anything right now,” she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest, “except go to bed with you.”
For a moment, she wasn’t sure whose heartbeat she heard pounding so loudly, or maybe it was the echo of both of them, already moving in sync.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick, rough, almost reverent.
She nodded slowly, keeping her gaze locked to his. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it… and I know you have, too. I just want everything else to disappear until it’s only you and me, nothing between us but skin and need and whatever we find in each other.”
A deep, raw rumbling chuckle escaped him, and then he moved quicker than she would have ever expected from a man his size. He scooped her up into his arms as though she weighed nothing at all.
She gave a startled laugh, instinctively clutching his shoulders as he carried her, careful to shield her head from the doorframe and her feet from the railing. His strength and tenderness wrapped around her like a second skin.
She barely noticed anything about the upstairs of his house. Her world had narrowed to the solid feel of him, the heated promise in his arms, and the way her heart seemed to drum a frantic rhythm against his.
Before she could fully catch her breath, they crossed the threshold into a bedroom, and his mouth found hers—hot, hungry, and utterly devastating. If she had feared the fireworks wouldn’t come, she needn’t have worried.
The instant his lips sealed over hers, and his tongue swept inside, her body lit up like a struck match. Every nerve ending sparked to life as he tasted and claimed with the velvet slide of his tongue against hers, shooting pleasure straight down her spine.
Still holding her securely, he slowly bent, laying her across the bed with exquisite care.
His body followed, fitting against her with a rightness that stole her breath.
She gasped at the undeniable feel of his arousal pressing against her core through the layers of their clothes. Her hips instinctively arched upward to meet him. The contact sent a shudder of pure, raw need rippling through her. The need to feel him, all of him, consumed her.
Her hands fumbled for his shirt, tugging insistently. He pulled back with a groan, rising just enough to strip it off in one fluid motion, tossing it somewhere behind him.
The sight of him bare-chested, with muscles flexing, and desire burning in his eyes only fed the flames inside her. Emboldened, she sat up, crossing her arms to grab the hem ofher own shirt to drag it over her head. It joined his on the floor in a careless heap.
His gaze roamed her, slow and reverent, lingering on the lace of her bra. Before he could touch, she reached behind her, flicking open the clasp. She wiggled free, letting the bra slide away until her breasts were bared to him.
The way he looked at her—like she was something precious—made her tremble.
His large hands lifted, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her aching nipples. The sensation sent a zing of electricity that raced from her chest straight to her core. When he pinched lightly, she gasped, arching into his hands, seeking more.
He stood briefly, and the metallic clink of his belt unfastening sounded like the loudest thing in the room. As he stripped, she quickly tugged her jeans down, wriggling out of them as they both bared themselves at the same time.
When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat. He was... magnificent. All strength and masculine beauty, with a body that would put any fantasy hero to shame. Her gaze dropped to the hard length of him, jutting proudly, a pearl of moisture glistening at the tip.
Before she could second-guess herself, she rose to her knees and bent forward, her tongue flicking out to taste him.
“Holy fuck, Justice,” he groaned, his voice rough and broken.
Thrilled by his reaction, she grasped the firm muscles of his ass and pulled him closer, letting the head of his cock slide past her lips. She sucked him deep, setting a rhythm, swirling her tongue, tasting every inch of him.
His fingers threaded into her hair, his grip tightening just enough to sting, sending another jolt of pleasure arcing through her. The sound of his groans, the way his body trembled slightlybeneath her touch, made her feel powerful and utterly wanted. And she wanted more.
Just when she thought he was on the brink, his body tensed and he stepped back. Her lips popped off him with a soft, wet sound, and she blinked up at him in confusion, her brow furrowing. She was ready to protest, ready to pull him back into her mouth, but before she could utter a word, he grasped her by the thighs, spreading her wide, and tossed her legs over his shoulders.
And then he buried his face between her thighs. A cry broke from her throat, sharp and desperate, as his mouth found her core with devastating precision. He licked, sucked, and nipped, playing her body like he knew every secret it held. His tongue swirled over her swollen bundle of nerves while two fingers pressed deep inside her, crooking just right.
She was already so wound tight that the pleasure shattered through her with almost violent force. Tremors wracked her body, stealing her breath. She wanted to watch him, but her eyes squeezed shut, helpless against the riot of sensation.
