Page 60 of Surrender to Me
“Thank you. Means a lot.” He accepts my offering and sets it down on a nearby log without breaking eye contact.
He sweeps his gaze over me, lingering on my lips, my curves, and I feel the spark from last night reigniting, hotter, more urgent.
There’s no way he means to take me out here. “It’s freezing.” My voice betrays me with a waver as I glance around the property.
He steps closer, his body radiating heat. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“You can’t be serious.” Because I’m so cautious about my personal safety, I’ve never done remotely naughty outdoors.
“Oh, I assure you, I am.”
His grip firm on my shoulders, he moves me back toward a tree near the firepit where it’s much warmer.
Then he’s on me, his hands gripping my coat, pulling me against a tree, the rough bark digging into my back through the layers.
“This is crazy. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He catches my wrist and presses my palm against his erection. “Feel.” The shock of it steals my breath. He’s shaking, not from cold but from restraint.
“See?” His whisper drags over my skin. “That’s what you do to me.”
Before I can answer, he grabs a condom from his pocket.
He planned to seduce me outdoors? Or maybe he thought we’d do it in the kitchen?
Regardless, he’s prepared, and I’m grateful. Because when it comes to Stryker, I seem to have lost my sense of reasoning.
“Take this.”
I release my hold on his cock to accept the small packet. Then he hooks his thumbs inside the waistband of his sweatpants and pushes them low on his hips, the movement rough, impatient.
The cold air catches between us, shocking against the heat rolling off him.
“Open the package.”
The faint rip of foil is almost lost beneath the restless wind.
“Do it for me.”
My pulse hammering, I look up at him.
His gaze dares me.
My world seems to narrow to touch and breath—the drag of thin latex between my fingers, the tremor that goes through him when I trace my knuckles down the hard heat of him, and the hiss of his sucked-in breath feels like approval.
“Goddamn, Allie…” The tremor that goes through him is pure hunger, restraint unraveling strand by strand.
By the time the protection is in place, he’s breathing hard, jaw clenched, eyes dark with hunger.
I can’t believe the chill hasn’t affected him one little bit. Nothing should surprise me when it comes to him, I suppose.
“Good.” The rasp of his voice is rougher than the howl of the wind. “Now hold on to me.”
Motions sure, he drags my pants down, and my underwear follows. The bite of frigid air is a startling shock against my heated skin. I’m half-dressed, vulnerable, but his body shields me. With a sure grip, he raises me onto my tiptoes, bracing me with the tree.
When our eyes meet again, everything else falls away—the cold, the sky, the threat waiting somewhere out there.
There’s only this moment, my reckless wanting, the way he looks at me like I’m both his undoing and his salvation. Then his mouth is on mine, and the world disappears.
