Page 91 of In Case You Didn't Know
He unbuckles his seatbelt. “Am I that something?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “It felt like you were last night.”
He leans in, his face close enough that his breath tickles my cheek. This close, I can see the fire in his eyes.
“I’ve been yours for a lot longer than last night, sweetheart.”
Before I can respond, his hand is on my jaw, tipping my face toward his. His mouth crashes into mine, hot, hungry, and full of frustration. Like he’s starving. I gasp into him, grabbing at his shirt as his hands tangle in my hair. All the tension, bickering, heat, and emotion explodes into that kiss.
I’m dizzy by the time he breaks away, only far enough for our eyes to lock.
“I didn’t call,” he says softly, “because I knew if I did, I’d lose it and come straight back here. And I didn’t think you’d want that. You have a book to write.”
“Maybe I do want that,” I whisper. “Maybe that’s all I want. Maybe I thought about you all day, thought about touching myself, but I knew nothing could feel as good as you do inside of me.”
He growls low in his throat, opening his door and speeding around to mine.
“Inside,” he says, holding out his hand. The gentlemanly act contrasts perfectly with his expression, which is definitely ungentlemanlike. “Now, before I fuck you in this car.”
I let him pull me up, breathless as his hand curls around mine and he leads me to the front of the lighthouse, spinning me around until my back is pressed against the door.
His lips brush my ear, his hand taking mine, pushing it down until I’m cupping him. Feeling the hardness of his desire against my palm.
“You want something that’s yours?” he says. “Good, because every inch of me is yours tonight.”
ASHER
She stares up at me, her eyes wide, her lips softly parted, and I realize that I’m already a goner for this woman. I can’t think properly, I can’t do anything but want her.
Maybe it’s the way she talked to me when I was losing it outside the hospital. Or the way she intuitively knows how to make me feel better.
All I know is that I can’t stand the thought of another man touching her.
Her chest is rising and falling fast, and the way she looks at me, like I’m a fucking god, sends heat straight down to my cock.
“I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” she murmurs.
Before I can tell her that I feel the same way, she grabs my face and kisses me.
It’s hard. Raw. My mouth slants across hers like I’ve been waiting all day for this, and I have. Her lips part as she grasps onto me, her fingers curling into the front of my shirt, dragging me closer. I nudge her head back with mine, and push her against the door, one hand braced behind her head, the other tight around her waist.
She moans when I press all of me against her. “Inside,” I rasp.
“No.” She shakes her head, her hands sliding down to my belt. “I can’t wait that long.”
Her fingers make quick work of my buckle, as she loosens my pants and slides her hand inside. Her warm palm wraps around me.
“Francie,” I growl against her mouth. “Are you trying to kill me?”
She grins wickedly. “I’ll make it a pleasurable end.”
She runs her hand up and down, her thumb rubbing against the bead of precum already forming on my dick. She drops to her knees, and for a second, the heat in my chest mixes with something deeper. The trust in her eyes, the way she looks at me like I’m already hers. It makes me feel fucking invincible.
Then her mouth envelops me, warm and velvety, her tongue teasingly trailing along the length of me.
“Christ.” My head tips back, my hand cups the back of her head. She finds a rhythm, her sweet lips making every nerve ending in my body vibrate.
It doesn’t take long for me to feel that familiar pull deep in my belly. Her flickering tongue, her insistent mouth, the way she looks up at me, bats her eyelashes, shows me she owns me even while she’s knelt at my feet. And then I tangle my fingers in her hair, my voice urgent as I tell her to stop.
