Page 149 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
He caught the back of my neck, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Not a fucking chance,” he growled, voice dripping with promise. “We’ll just have to multitask.”
Well, fuck. With that voice, maybe I’d developed a thing for authority figures after all. If he growled at me again, I’d probably let him bend me over the castle battlements.
“Besides, if anyone spots us, they’ll just think we’re a couple of hikers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other,” I said. “Perfect cover, right?”
Maxwell’s hands gripped my waist, hauling me backwards into the tent with such sudden force that I nearly toppled over. He fumbled for the torch, hooking it from the mesh ceiling pocket.
We attacked each other’s clothes like scavengers through a wreckage—buttons popping, fabric tearing as we peeled away layers until we were down to underwear.
His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, the expanse of ebony skin complete with thick dark hair that I itched to run my fingers through. That gorgeous V-line carved into his lower abs made my mouth water, pointing like an arrow toward everything I wanted. The corded muscles in Maxwell’s arms stood out in sharp relief under the torchlight, and something possessive and primal whisperedmine, mine, minein the back of my mind. This beautiful, impossible man was mine.For tonight, at least,I forced myself to add, though the cord of energy tethering us together seemed to pluck angrily at that last thought.
Maxwell’s large hand circled my hip, thumb pressing into the hollow just above my hipbone, and a full-body shiver racked through me.
“Keep your jumper on at least,” he murmured. “It’s freezing.”
“Hold on.” I shifted on top of him, one hand braced against his chest while I rooted through my rucksack with the other. My fingers found soft cotton amongst the chaos of spare socks and energy bars.
I tugged it free.
Maxwell’s eyes widened in recognition. “Hey, that’s my shirt!”
“You gave it to me,” I said innocently, shrugging into the sleeves but leaving every button undone so the navy-blue button down hung open like a frame around my bare chest. The familiar scent of Maxwell’s cologne wrapped around me like a second skin.
“To wash!”
I leaned down until my lips brushed the shell of his ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “Well, Officer, I’m afraid I’ve been very naughty and haven’t washed it.”
Crack.
His hand met my ass with enough force to make me gasp. “That’s Detective Inspector, thank you very much.”
Heat spread like wildfire where he’d struck me, sending sparks straight to my cock. Something wolfish unfurled inside me—the overwhelming need to claim, to possess, to mark him as mine. Through our connection, I could feel his desire answering mine, feeding the fire until I could barely think straight.
“And is there a punishment for such insubordination?” I asked breathlessly.
Maxwell traced the outline of my very erect dick. “I think you can find a way to make it up to me.”
“Are you going to mock me for packing the lube?” I reached into the rucksack again, producing the small tube with what I hoped was a cocky grin. “Being optimistic?”
“Mock you?” Maxwell’s hands slid up my thighs, fingers digging into muscle. “I’m going to bloody kiss you.”
His mouth devoured mine. Gone was any gentle exploration—this was hunger made manifest, teeth and tongue and desperate need. He kissed me like I was moonlight and he’d been lost in darkness. Like he could pull the very essence of me into himself through sheer will. His tongue swept against mine in claiming strokes that made my toes curl, and when I tried to pull back for breath, he chased my mouth with his own, refusing to let me escape.
Maxwell fell back against the sleeping bag, pulling me with him until I was sprawled across his chest. His hands found the waistband of my boxers, fingers hooking into the elastic.
“These need to come off,” he rasped, “before I tear them apart.”
The threat made my blood sing. I scrambled to obey, kicking them away. Maxwell shuffled beneath me, working his briefs down his hips until his cock sprang free—thick and flushed and absolutely magnificent in the torchlight.
It looked so delicious I couldn’t help myself. My mouth found the tip instantly, one long teasing suck that had Maxwell crying out the most beautiful broken sound, his hands tangling desperately in my hair, tugging with enough force to make my eyes water. I grinned at him wickedly before wrapping my fingers around his head and giving the gentlest squeeze. The breathless curse that escaped him made me bolder—I flattened my tongue and licked across the sensitive tip, slow and deliberate, just to watch him come apart beneath me.
When he was writhing enough for my liking, thrusting his cock towards me, I worked my mouth up and down his length, tongue tracing every ridge and vein, drenching him in saliva until he was slick and glistening. Precum leaked from his head and I greedily lapped it up. The taste of him flooded my senses—salt and musk and lemongrass and raindrops andmine.
Maxwell moaned, deep throaty sounds that vibrated through his chest and straight into my bones. His hips bucked beneath me, seeking more friction, more heat, more of everything I was giving him. But when I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, stroking in rhythm with my mouth, something shifted in the desperate cadence of his breathing.
He captured my wrist with trembling fingers. He guided my hand lower, down past his ass cheeks to the sensitive skin behind them.
“Can you…” he breathed, voice fracturing on the words. “Touch me?”
