Heat poured from her. Her juices were saturating her panties, then saturating his fingers as he slid them into the swollen folds.
Slick, thick, moisture prepared her for him.
The scent of her tempted him, the heated sweet juices making his mouth water for the taste of her.
Drawing back, he stared back down at her, seeing her closed eyes, the mask of complete, absorbed hunger on her face.
“Look at me,” he rasped, the hunger tearing at him, straining his tenuous control.
Dark lashes lifted, green eyes stared back at him, dazed from her pleasure as he pulled his fingers from her pu**y and brought them to his lips.
...
Gypsy jerked beneath Rule as he brought his fingers to his lips, the hard flesh glistening with the rich layer of her juices a second before he began sucking the taste of her from them.
Then his hips lowered to hers, the hard wedge of his c**k driving into the vee of her thighs again as he pulled his fingers from his mouth and lowered his head.
“I could f**k you here.” The primal, graveled tone of his voice had her pu**y clenching, more of her juices spilling from her vagina at the very thought of this powerful, erotic male doing just that. “I could strip that excuse for clothes from you and have you screaming with your orgasm within seconds.”
She gripped his waist, her head tilting back, her hips rocking against his as he ground his c**k against her.
“Is this what you want, Gypsy? Here? Now? Should I take all that sweet innocence in the backseat of a f**king war machine?”
“Shut up,” she cried out desperately, her fingers suddenly curling into fists at the reminder that she was still innocent. Still a virgin. At the memory of why she’d never allowed herself to take a lover.
“Is this what you want?” he repeated, a hard hand gripping her ass and jerking her into the press of his erection between her thighs. “Tell me now. I’m two seconds from jerking those shorts from your body and giving you exactly what we’re both dying for.”
She shook her head desperately. Why wouldn’t he just do it? Why did he have to talk about it?
“Here and now?” His lips lowered to her, the hint of her feminine taste against her tongue as he took her lips in a brief, hard kiss. “Right here,” he repeated. “My dick sinking inside your sweet, tight pu**y? I’ll ride you until we’re both dying from the pleasure if that’s what you want.”
She whimpered, the cry a ragged sound that shocked her, that reminded her how long it had been since she had truly cried. It reminded her how long she had needed to cry, to shed the agony destroying her.
“Just do it,” she cried out, her eyes opening, glaring up at him until the sight of his expression, his eyes, finally registered.
Lust tightened his features, filled the blue of his eyes, but there was more there than just the sexual hunger burning inside him. Something she swore she could feel. It wasn’t hunger. It wasn’t need, sympathy, compassion or pity. Something that felt like understanding. Like warmth surrounding her ragged emotions, a soothing touch in the depths of her soul as her chest tightened and her breathing hitched dangerously.
“Let me go.” She would not cry. She couldn’t cry.
He eased back slowly, but before he released her he resnapped the shorts, fixed her bra and gently pulled her tank back in place before allowing her to sit up.
She jumped from the Dragoon, her back turned to him as she stood beneath the searing sunlight and drew in several ragged breaths.
“I know what you did,” she finally whispered.
“What did I do that’s so heinous?” A rasp of remembered pleasure and hunger echoed in his tone.
“The offer from Jonas to my parents. You were behind it.”
She couldn’t even turn to see the expression on his face as she forced the accusation past her lips.
“Did I now?” he asked, the dark, seductive tone sending sensation racing across her flesh as the need for his touch came dangerously close to addiction. “Why would I do that, Gypsy?”
“For this.” She turned on him, her hand swinging out to gesture to the back of the Dragoon. “Do you really think that’s going to get you into my bed?”
Grave, intense, his gaze met hers, held it. And she felt it again. That soothing warmth sinking inside her chest and loosening the shields between her and a loss of control she couldn’t countenance.
“Gypsy.” He sighed her name with an edge of chastisement. “I could have just taken you in that backseat and you would have loved every second of it. Screamed for me. Begged to come for me. I touch you and we both go up in flames. Do you really think I’d stoop to the trouble of playing games to get what I want you to give me willingly? If that were true, you would still be lying beneath me, your nails raking down my back as I f**ked us both half crazy.”
She flushed. She couldn’t help it. Hunger, embarrassment, that warmth she hated feeling tugging at her emotions, urging her into his arms, against his chest, where he would shelter her as the agony buried inside her, tore free.
“Stop!” she cried out desperately, her fingers sinking into the hair at the side of her head in desperation for one crazy second as she swore he was inside her. “God, you’re already making me crazy.” She glared at him accusingly. “You don’t have to f**k me into it. I’m already there.”
“I think I need that extra, added little push into insanity,” he told her far too seriously. “Shall we try it and see if it works?”