Page 124 of Relentless

It’s like five years’ worth of kisses have been bottled, and together, we’ve knocked the top off and dove in to make up for lost time, refusing to surface for air.

My lungs burn with my need to take a deep breath, but I can’t. I can’t take my lips from his.

They’re so soft, so warm, so… perfect.

His kisses are everything I always knew they would be and more. So much fucking more.

I’m drunk. Utterly and completely wasted on his kisses. It’s the best feeling in the world, and I never want it to end.

We could take it further, both of us are desperate for it. His solid length is like a steel rod between us. I can only imagine how painful it must be. But this is just too perfect to stop or to even make the effort to move the thin layers separating us.

It’ll come. I know it will.

Finally, fucking finally, I’ve managed to push through the barriers he put up all those years ago and I’m able to give him everything I’ve always wanted to. Well, not quite everything. But I figure, we’ve waited this long, so what’s a little longer when, together, we’re so perfect.

His hand that is resting on my waist twitches and begins to slide up.

Oh God, yes.

A whimper spills from my lips as his thumb brushes the underside of my heavy breast, making me gasp, finally ripping our lips apart.

“Oh God.” I moan when he takes me in his hand.

My head falls back and heat shoots to my core.

I’m so close already just from his kisses and grinding down on him, that one pinch of my nipples and I’m sure he’s going to push me right over the edge.

“Mav, yes,” I cry when his other hand slips under my shirt, joining the party.

Cool air rushes over my heated skin as he hooks the fabric over his wrists, exposing me to him.

“Fucking hell, you’re perfect, Doll.”

He leans forward, his full, swollen lips parted and glistening in the low sunlight spilling through the huge windows beside us.

But just before his lips make contact with my needy skin, he pauses.

“It’s okay. They’ll be okay,” I whisper, assuming he’s stopping because of my fresh piercings.

His breath rushes over me, making my nipples harden even more, desperate to feel his heat, but he doesn’t do anything.

Dropping my chin, I stare down at him through glassy, lust-filled eyes to find his lips barely an inch from my skin, but his eyes locked on the other side of the room.

Instantly, a shiver rips down my spine as reality dawns.

We have an audience.

“Don’t stop on my account,” a teasing voice says.

“Julian.” It’s meant to be a warning, but my voice is nothing more than a breathy moan.

“Look at you, little dove,” he says, pushing from the doorframe, his eyes locked on mine before they drop down my body.

Mav’s hands twitch, as if he wants to cover me up, but he holds steady.

“Do you mind?” Mav growls. “My wife and I are—”

“In the middle of the kitchen looking hot as fuck. Have you made your husband nice and hard down there, Dove?”

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