Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3), Tara Wyatt [best mobile ebook reader .txt] 📗

“Jesus,” he breathed, then kissed her again. With one arm banded around her waist, he slid his other hand up over her ribs and to her breast, skating the tips of his fingers over her nipple. She moaned and arched into his touch. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and she twitched on his lap, their kiss muffling her cry.

“You’re so sensitive,” he said, his tone dripping with approval. “So responsive.”

She nodded and kissed him again, slipping the remaining buttons of his shirt free. With his shirt open, she pressed her chest to his, both of them moaning at the skin-to-skin contact. His chest hair scraped lightly against her nipples and she shifted her hips, hot pressure already building up inside her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her feel like this, and she wondered if one ever had. If a man had ever made her feel like her skin was on fire, like she was going to be nothing but a pile of ash by the time he was finished with her.

He broke the kiss and stood suddenly, still holding her in his arms. He turned so that her back was to the bed and then carefully eased her down. His eyes were bright, flashing with intensity in the low lighting. He stood in front of her at the edge of the bed and shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

She’d seen him shirtless before—the company beach day from last summer was an often-visited memory—but never like this. Never alone, in the dark, on a bed, his thick cock straining against his pants. For her.

He was beautiful. Absolutely, stunningly beautiful. He was so big, so broad and thick with muscle. All tightly coiled masculine strength and power.

His chest heaved as he stared at her, the only sign—besides the mouthwatering outline of his cock beneath his pants—that he was just as affected by this as she was. Still holding her gaze, he lifted his hands to his belt, slowly working it open. The buckle clanked softly as he undid the front of his pants, but he stopped there, denying her the view of what she wanted to see. Taste. Feel. But he made up for it by rubbing his palm over his cock and letting out a low, gruff sound.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, kneeling on the bed and sliding his hands up her legs, his fingers curling around her calves, easing her legs open.

She met his eyes, sucking in a shaky breath. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” And it was true. The sky could fall around them and she’d still want this. Max, here, now.

A pained expression flashed across his face, gone so quick she wondered if she’d imagined it. But then his hands kept traveling upward and her stomach exploded in butterflies. She could feel her pulse in her clit and her hips shifted on the bed. His huge hands stopped when they reached her thighs, his thumbs skimming the outer edge of where she was throbbing for him. Everything inside her clenched at the feeling of his hands so, so close. She bit her lip, holding back a whimper.

His hand slid over her pussy and she gasped, her hips arching toward him. It was so good and yet not early enough with her leggings and panties still on. A hot, thick throb settled between her legs and she clenched again.

He worked his hand over her in an achingly slow caress. “Fuck, Willa,” he said, his voice strained. “You’re so wet. I can feel it.”

She knew she should say something in response, but all she could do was moan as he rubbed his hand over her again, frustration at the layers of fabric separating them making her ball her hands into fists. He slid his hands up over her hips and curled his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, working them down her legs. She lifted her hips off the bed, helping. Eager for whatever was coming next.

Hopefully she was what was coming next, because she wasn’t sure how much more of this aching she could stand. This empty throbbing that only seemed to burrow deeper and deeper into her.

He tossed her leggings aside and then climbed onto the bed, carefully easing his weight down onto her. Something inside her settled at feeling so surrounded by him. For the first time since the invasion, she felt truly safe. Sheltered. Still horny as hell, but also sweetly protected. She wrapped her arms around him, savoring the feel of hard muscle and warm skin pressed against her. His teeth scraped over her jaw and he nipped at her earlobe, making her shiver.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” he said, his face buried in her neck. “You, underneath me. Wanting me.”

He could’ve told her he was the freaking Wizard of Oz and she wouldn’t have been more shocked than she was at his admission. He’d never given her even the tiniest inclination that her crush was anything but one-sided.

“Really?” she asked, her voice a trembling whisper. “I didn’t—” But she couldn’t finish her thought as he worked his hips against her, his massive cock pressing against her fluttering pussy. Oh, God. He was going to ruin her. She knew it already, and there wasn’t a damn thing she was going to do to stop it.

“Tell me what you need,” he said, kissing a path down her throat, across her collarbone. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

A thrill shot through her and she lifted her hips, arching up to meet him. “I need to come. I need you inside me. I’m empty without you, so empty it almost hurts, Max. I need you to fill me up and take me.”

He sucked on a spot just below her ear and she rasped out a breath, pleasure twisting her insides into a bright, pulsing knot. “God, Willa,” he breathed, thrusting against her. “If you