Page 44 of Fly Boy
“This is what I mean,” she yells, throwing her arms out to the sides. “You can’t say those things to me and then kiss me like that. You can’t keep messing with my head when—”
She doesn’t finish as my lips find hers again. She’s broken the dam, letting everything escape in a landslide. All the lust, all the want, all the need for this beautiful woman in my arms. She whimpers, her hands clutching my forearms as mine thread into her damp hair, the long strands tangling in my fingers. I move away from her mouth but don’t stop kissing her, trailing my lips across her jaw, her neck, wanting to feel her skin, the taste of it, relishing the way she quivers with need when I lick that space at the base of her throat.
“Wyatt.” The sound of my name is a plea going straight to my half-hard cock.
“One night,” I say, my words a harsh whisper of both arousal and defeat. “And that’s it. Come tomorrow, you move on.”
“Youmove on,” she goads, leaning back enough to look at me.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she states. “One night is more than enough.”
The fingers in her hair curl into a fist, and I pull it back sharply. Her breath hitches with arousal, cheeks flushing a sexy shade of red. One night would never be enough. But I can’t allow myself more than that. I lower my hands to her hips, my fingers dipping under the hem of her shirt to feel the skin I can’t stop thinking about. She shivers under my touch, and I catalog thereaction for no other reason than I’m a masochist. But if tonight is all we have…
“I’m going to fuck you quick and hard, Pippa. I’m going to make you come, screaming my name, making it so good that you’ll be begging me for more. And if you’re a good girl, I’ll give you what you want. You’ll wish you could have another night with me.”
“Pretty cocky, aren’t you?”
I smirk, my lips twisting into something sinful. “Not cocky when it’s the truth.” I drop my hands and take a step back, my heart beating so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if she could see it. “Now, take off your clothes. Slowly.”
The corners of her lips twitch upward. “Since you asked so nicely, Captain Grant.”
The sound of my title in her soft, almost breathy pitch makes my nerve endings spark. Hearing her say it now sounds wrong coming from her. Not with what we’re about to do. I growl, low in my throat, bending down to nip the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. “Don’t call me Captain.”
With a gasp, she exposes more of her neck to me. “But isn’t that what you always want me to call you?Captain Grant?” she purrs.
“Not tonight.”
Pippa pushes out of my hold and heads toward the kitchen door, her hips swinging salaciously as she crosses the room. Reaching for the bottom of her shirt, she spins, walking backward as she lifts it over her head. She tosses it behind her, and I catch it, the cotton wet in my hands.
Licking her lips, she tilts her head, her voice sultry as she asks, “Which way to the bedroom then, Mr. Sexy Pilot Man?”
Chapter Sixteen
He drops my shirtonto the floor, the material splatting on the hardwood, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are wide, unadulterated arousal shining from their depths as he gives himself over to the white-hot lust he’s tried to hide.
He’s a man possessed as he stalks slowly forward, his attention homed in on me, his nostrils flaring, jaw hard, and a thrill of delight bursts through me.
I spin on my heel and run.
Wyatt doesn’t disappoint as I hear him chase after me, my laughter ringing around his house as I dart for the stairs. I have no idea where I’m going. All I know is I like his pursuit of me, like the danger of teasing this man whose restraint I’ve broken, even if it’s just for tonight.
But most of all, I want to be caught.
A strong arm bands around my waist as I reach the top, hauling me against an even stronger chest. I squeal, the sound turning into a breathy moan as Wyatt’s teeth bite into my shoulder.
“Ohgod,” I breathe out, grinding my ass against the outline of his extremely hard and extremely thick cock.
It appearsBig Dickdoesn’t just apply to hisEnergy.
My mouth dries at the thought of teasing it, licking it, tasting it. Exploring every single part of his body, taking my time with him, learning what turns him on. But Wyatt’s rules didn’t stipulate any time for foreplay. He wants inside me, and with the way his teeth graze my sensitive flesh, I don’t think I’ve got it in me to fight for more.
I want him as much as I want my next breath.
In a heartbeat, he spins me, my back slamming against a wall, his large hand cupping the back of my head in a move so smooth that I want to ask him if he’s done that before or if it was to be a gentleman.
But there’s nothing gentlemanly about him as his free hand palms my breast, roughly squeezing over the lacy cup of my bra, my nipple hardening embarrassingly quickly in his firm hold.
