Page 73 of Sigma
I take his jaw into both hands. “I missed you.”
He closes his eyes. I both watch and feel the emotion washing through him. He likes that.
“A lot,” I add. “It made me grumpy instead of welcoming you back. I’ll do better next time. As long as you fucking call me. Okay?”
He grabs his hat from his head and tosses it, then kisses me. Deep, passionately. He grabs my ass and hikes me up, ready to take me to bed. I sort of duck, so my head doesn’t hit the ceiling.
“That’ll have to wait, baby,” I advise. “I’m starving. And dinner smells really, really good.”
He growls out a little sound of frustration which fully saturates my undies.
“Eat fast, woman,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining.
I laugh.
“I’m not jokin’.”
I laugh some more and hug him tight, which pretty much buries his face in my breasts.
“Eat your food, you wicked female,” he slaps my ass and sets me down.
I do a little shimmy with the first bite of melt-in-my-mouth meat and run my foot up his leg while moaning and nodding. Finally, he smiles.
I pour the mead for us both and yes, I drank that first bottle alone and enjoyed it immensely as I always do when consuming something the Quinns make; they’re very talented at wine and at hooch. But this bottle? Drinking it with my fated mate hereand now… it tastes even better. And I have a feeling Skye won’t mind giving me a third bottle to celebrate when we find our way through our challenges.
***
Dinner was fantastic. Well, three quarters of it was, but we didn’t get to finish. And that might have been not just because we’d spent a day apart, it might also have had something to do with the fact that my foot kept sliding up and down his leg until I started massaging his cock with my toes. He hit his limit and went a little feral, declaring dinnertime was over and that it was time for dessert. He grabbed his mask and my belt before tagging my hand and telling me I’d be up and over his shoulder if the roof in this trailer wasn’t so low.
“Fuck,” he says with reverence once he’s gotten me down to the one-piece red lace teddy. I feel very sexy in it, especially with this look on his face.
He loops a finger into one shoulder strap and slips it off me.
“Fuck me,” he says as he repeats the motion with the other strap before sitting on the edge of the bed in front of me.
He reaches out and cups me between the legs. His fingers move and now the snaps holding the crotch together release. He’s holding eye contact while he does this and it’s hot as fuck.
Now he’s sliding his finger inside me, crooking it and using his grip to bring me closer. The sensations make me gasp.
Sheesh, the look in my mate’s eyes is sizzling hot.
“Come here. On your back. Open wide for me, beautiful.”
I lay back and do as I’m told, giddiness flooding my veins like champagne bubbles.
His lips, tongue, and teeth work their way slowly, tortuously down to my breast. He suckles over the lace and releases my nipple far too soon for my liking. But he keeps moving south and now I’m arching in anticipation of where his mouth seems to be heading.
My legs are thrown over his broad shoulders and he spreads me open wide, assessing what’s between my legs for a long moment where he looks like he likes what he sees. I feel vulnerable and exposed; this feels very erotic. It feels right.
“This is mine,” he says, staring between my legs. And finally, he takes a long, sensual lick.
“Yeah, baby,” I groan and drive my fingers through his short hair, holding onto his head.
He repeats the motion and then his mouth latches onto my clit and he takes a pull, which has the effect of making me cry out, let go of his head, and fist the bedding.
“Don’t stop,” I demand.
He stops.
