Page 79 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

His cock was a weapon, and right now, I was his chosen battlefield.

Linking my arms around his neck, I fused our mouths together. If he wanted a ride of a lifetime, he’d just found his match.

The fist in my hair grew wild, pulling my head back. He chased my lips, kissing me desperately, before he raced his mouth down my throat. The bite of his teeth and the pain along my scalp zipped right between my legs, lighting up every part of me in between. My nipples tingled and he didn’t have enough hands.

So, I used one of my own, nearly frantic as I twisted and tugged. And watched his jaw go slack as he slammed home one last time.

The quick jerk of him inside me made me sob with the need for my own release. So, so close, but the second climb was always steeper.

As if he knew, as if he understood, his fingers found me again while he came down from his own orgasm. His eyes narrowed and a muscle ticked in his temple, but he watched every nuance of my face even when I would’ve shied away. I wasn’t a shrinking violet, but he’d blown me wide open again, and now he wanted to see my destruction at his hands.

His cock slipped in and out of me lazily, an easy counterpoint to the roughness of his touch. I couldn’t look away from the stark planes of his face, the little beads of sweat along his hairline, the tiny freckles that dotted his upper lip. My whole body was straining, aching, and I was already trying to remember details for that moment when he became my past.

Again.

“Out of your head, duchess.” His thumb circled hard and fast. “Don’t make me spank this orgasm out of you.”

My eyes popped wide.

His raw chuckle was like a match set to my libido. I dug my nails into his shoulders and bounced against him, not caring what it looked like. The friction of our bodies moving together, the heat in his gaze—I was done.

This time, I didn’t make a noise. Pleasure ruled me, rolling through me in thick waves. His cock never stopped, but I didn’t try to keep up. I couldn’t. All I could do was drown in his eyes.

Afterward, I just trembled. I didn’t know what to do. Who to be.

Flirty Lindsey? Remote Lindsey? The real Lindsey who was falling—

“You’re stunning.” He brushed a kiss over my numb lips, but that wasn’t enough for me. I scored my nails along his neck as I dragged him back for another kiss, deeper now. So deep that all those nerve endings that had just fired were sparking again.

“Christ. You’ll be the death of me.” His Irish was thicker, his kisses as wild as mine.

There was no end to what flared to life between us. Just levels.

Still holding me, he started walking through the water, splashing it between us. I locked my legs around him for dear life, so I didn’t fall for real.

“I have you.”

“You do. But for how long?”

I hadn’t meant for him to hear. Definitely hadn’t intended for him to lay me out on my yoga mat on the grass and pry open my legs to taste all he’d left behind.

Filthy Irishman.

I lost count of how many climaxes he wrought from my body. Forget me not having multiple orgasms easily. He’d flipped some switch inside me. Each release was agony, but he didn’t care. It was as if he was driven to imprint himself on my psyche.

Like he hadn’t already.

When he drew back and dragged his wrist over his mouth, I pushed him onto his back. If he thought he’d take all of me, I’d return the favor in spades.

“Duchess.” The word was a groan when he realized my destination. It wasn’t hard to guess, since he was again curved against his belly and gleaming with a mixture of water and more.

I gripped him in both hands—necessary right now—and touched the tip of him to my lips, watching his expression as I sank down. I didn’t have his finesse, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He clutched my thigh in brutal fingers and arched his back, his smart mouth falling silent. Even the smirks he wore like armor fell away.

His steel in my hand and the softness of my mouth were all that was left. While the sounds of birdsong and bubbling water surrounded us, and the sun radiated down on skin probably already close to burning.

At least mine. Alex seemed immune to the rays, as he was to so much else.

Unlike me. I would’ve sworn every molecule of my body was open to him and the elements around me. I’d never felt this alive. This aware.

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