Page 83 of Moonlit Temptation

His lips crash against mine, his mouth anything but gentle as he devours me. It's more than a kiss—it's a claim.

A label I'm more than happy to give him.

The chemistry between us is electric, each touch and swipe of his tongue ramping up my swelling desire.

I break the kiss, and we both gasp for air. Nova's eyes are squeezed shut, brows wrinkled in concentration as his lips part with a slight pained expression. He applies pressure to his hold on my hips, stilling me.

“If you keep that up, I'm going to come in my pants like some punk kid,” he says as he exhales.

I dip down and drag my lips across his jaw, scraping my teeth along his stubble until I reach his ear. “What if I want to make you come,” I murmur.

He shivers hard enough that I feel him tremble beneath me. He pulls me back and I see his eyes are open now, the color totally eclipsed by the dark lust swirling in his gaze.

“You first,” he promises, his voice low and husky.

I nod and he takes my mouth again. I expect him to slide my thong to the side or tease me over the thin cotton. But he doesn't do either of those things.

Instead he lifts me up and off of him. My hands fly to his shoulders as he guides me to walk backward on my knees a few steps.

He rips his mouth from mine, flashing me the most carnal grin I've ever seen on anyone. There's fervent need in every taut muscle and shadowed line of his face.

“Now turn around.”

I do as I'm told, bringing my attention to the movie screen. Where another group scene is happening. Arousal soaks my thong and my cheeks heat. I'm not sure if it's from the movie, Nova's touch, or the thought of what's to come.

Probably all of it.

“That's my girl,” he murmurs. “Eyes on the screen, yeah?”

I nod, determination competing with lust inside of me.

I hear fabric rustling, and my fingers tingle with anticipation. I spare exactly one worried thought that people can see what we're about to do. Even though I don't even know what we're doing. But I dismiss it as quickly as it comes.

As long as I keep my shirt on, the sides of the truck bed are tall enough to conceal pretty much everything.

With his hands on my thighs, he drags me down. I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't him tonguing the soaked triangle of cotton covering my pussy.

“Nova,” I gasp, pushing off his face in surprise.

“Shh, sweetheart. I'm trying to eat.” His reprimand is muffled, his words vibrating against my most sensitive area.

One hand wraps over the top of my thigh, pulling me back down against his face. He peels my thong to the side with his free hand, the stitching on the hem dragging across my clit with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Oh,” I gasp, my back arching.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, his lips brushing against my pussy in the most obscene way.

I'm nodding enthusiastically, my eyes half-open with pleasure. I think I might come just from the idea of him eating me out.

Which seems insane, but the idea that anyone can see me—hear me—is amping everything up tenfold.

My chest heaves and I lean forward to brace my hands on my legs, right above my knees.

“That's it, just like that. Ride my face, baby.”

His quiet praise strips away the last thread of hesitation, and I roll my hips against his mouth. He responds with a growl, like he was waiting for my green light. He drags his tongue through my folds, swirling it around my clit before he sucks it into his mouth.

I'm spinning out of control quickly, the sensations too intense, the pleasure too great. I moan, unable to hold back any longer, uncaring of who can hear me.

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