Page 40 of Ruthless Rose

Chapter 24

Oh my God.I’m kissing Micah. Me. Daphne Davis. I have no idea what I’m doing, but he doesn’t seem to care. His tongue flicks, his lips rub, and he devours me whole. He’s ravenous. Starving. For me. I’m wet and cold, but there’s an inferno raging inside me. His kisses leave me breathless.

He takes my hand in his, maneuvering it between us until he puts it right where he wants it. “Daph, you make me so hard.” His dick practically throbs, and the pulsing deep in my core is a match for his need. I’m naive and inexperienced, but I’m pretty sure I know where this road goes. I don’t know if I should listen to my head and slow things down or if I should charge forward into oblivion with him. I feel like I can trust Micah.

His lips are wild, sliding down my neck. He drops heated, open-mouthed kisses over my skin and licks his way down my V-neck shirt to my chest. My hand is caged over his dick with one of his as the other roams down to find its way under the hem of my shirt.

His hand deftly slides up my torso and under my sports bra to come into direct contact with my bare breast. A surge of desire shoots down my spine, sizzling the whole way. My panties are soaked from all the water, but I’m fairly certain I’m wet for Micah—my body recognizes what it wants from his.

In the back of my head, I hear cars driving by, but I pay them no mind. I’m too wound up in the sensations Micah evokes within me. I slide my hand up and down over his erection, until he detaches himself from me, his breath heaving from him.

“Holy fuck.” He rubs his hand through his wet hair, glancing down the street. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

My brain is so lust-fogged, I can hardly think. “What?” I swallow hard, looking up at him.

“I mean, we should go inside.”

“Oh.” I glance over at his SUV. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

He nods, working his jaw back and forth. “Yeah.” He picks up the hose where he’d dropped it earlier, gives my car a final spray down, then walks over to the side of the house to turn the water off.

Standing there waiting for him, I begin to shake. I have no clue if it’s due to the fact that I’m wet and cold or because I want his hands and lips on me again that badly. He makes my body tremble and my heart soar.

Micah grabs his bag and follows me into the house. The second I close the door behind us, the bag drops to the floor, and he rotates me in his arms, backing me up to it. His mouth slants over mine, and this time when his tongue slides inside, I respond eagerly, none of the previous tentative nerves remain. I tease him with my lips, rubbing my tongue against his. He smells like spicy cologne and man, and it drives me wild, my body straining toward his.

A moment later, his fingers clasp the hem of my shirt, and he lifts it over my head. It drops to the floor with a wet slap as he works my sports bra over my head too, his gaze never leaving mine.

Once it’s off, though, his eyes roam down my naked torso. He yanks his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Micah is a god. Carved to perfection. I want him so badly I ache with it.

We stare at each other for several moments, chests rising and falling quickly before he pulls me into his arms. The skin-to-skin contact leaves me breathless, and a deep throb hits me out of nowhere. My entire body is aware of his—his lips, his tongue, and those big, big hands.

Micah lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his slim waist as he backs us up to the door again. He stares into my eyes for what feels like an eternity, but was likely mere seconds. Dipping his head down to my chest, his tongue flicks out and I feel warm wetness circling my nipple. He repeats the movement several times before switching to the other side and licking at that one as well. Liquid heat flows through me, and I moan right as he closes his mouth over the taut peak and sucks it into his mouth. He uses his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until I’m a writhing mass of need, uncaring that the door bites into my back. I’d stay here forever, so long as his mouth is on me.

With a growl, he licks his way across my chest, pulling my other nipple between his lips to flick his tongue against it as he sucks.

When I shiver, he grits his teeth. “Sorry. This— We—” He stops and considers me carefully, and I wonder what he sees. Flushed skin? Swollen lips? Eyes that plead with him for more?

“We what?”

“I want to take you upstairs.”

My eyes widen.

“I think you should take a hot shower and get dressed.”

What?“I—”

He puts a finger to my lips, then covers my mouth with his again, nipping lightly. “You’re freezing.”

My body shudders in response to his words. I bite my lip. So maybe I am. Or maybe it’s his mouth on mine and his proximity that make me tremble in recognition of what I want.

Him.

---