Blood Moon, Gwendolyn Harper [best detective novels of all time TXT] 📗

hand, she cupped his cheek and then sunk her fingers into his thick hair, tugging on the ends.

“Now take your pants off and make me see God.”

Booker’s smile was like the light of the full moon.

“Christ, do I love you, songbird.”

“Good thing you married me then, huh?”

His expression became tender, staring down at her in the dark.

They didn’t need rings or a priest to pronounce them what they already knew in their bones.

Viscerally interdependent.

Innocent and vicious and fierce.

Wolves on the run.

Booker nodded, bending down to kiss. “Good thing indeed.”

It was another struggle for him to get his boots off, and then his jeans, but finally he was bare, and Caitlin nearly had an aneurysm thinking of all the ways she wanted to fuck him senseless.

“Jesus, you think loud,” he said, prowling back up the length of her body.

Caitlin grinned. “I’d apologize, but I know you like it.”

Humming in agreement, he lowered onto one elbow, sucking a mark into her collar bone.

Instinctively, her legs opened wider, giving him space.

As he dragged his stubble over her nipples, making her whimper, Booker slid his other hand beneath the cotton of her underwear but barely stroked her.

“Forgot to take these off ya,” he said, kissing her sternum.

“Forgot or just teasing me even more?”

He chuckled against her. “Prob’ly both.”

The second his thick fingers breeched her entrance, she was gasping his name and clutching his shoulders. Starting with two, he circled his wrist, finding the tempo he knew she liked but wouldn’t be enough.

“Definitely both,” she said breathless.

Kissing her, Booker pressed his tongue past her lips in a filthy slide that mimicked the motion of his hand.

“Might be keyed up,” he said against her lips. “But I want every last ounce wrung outta you.”

As he crooked his fingers, Caitlin moaned his name, arching her back.

“Right there,” she told him, scrambling for purchase on his bicep.

Nudging the perfect spot over and over, he got her higher and higher until she was trembling.

Her orgasm was within reach, so close it was agonizing, and just as she was about to plead with him to go a little faster, a little harder, Booker withdrew.

“Jack!” She nearly clawed him in her frustration, but he only smirked.

“Shh, shh.” His mouth was hot on her neck, her jaw, her chin. “I ain’t done yet.”

Inching down, he planted wet kisses over her breasts and stomach, nibbling at the sensitive hinges of her hips and thighs.

Finally, as if unwrapping a gift, he rolled the fabric of her panties down over her legs and tossed them aside.

“That’s better,” he said, positioning himself with her calves draped over his shoulders.

She didn’t have time to respond. Before she could even take a breath, he was unfurling her with his tongue, moaning like he’d just tasted the best meal of his life.

Fisting his hair, Caitlin held him to her, lifting her hips and grinding against his mouth.

“Oh fuck, Jack,” she whimpered, already shaking again. “Yes.”

Circling her clit, he flicked the sensitive nub before taking it between his lips and humming.

With a half-groan, half-sob, Caitlin bowed off the tent floor.

So close. So close and yet so far.

“Booker, for the love of God,” she said between gritted teeth.

It only made him chuckle, the vibrations rolling through her and pushing her even higher.

Digging her heels into his muscled back, she framed his head with her pale thighs.

As his tongue undulated, Booker slid his fingers back inside her, pumping slowly.

Caitlin thought she was going to catch fire.

Sweat beaded in her cleavage, in the crooks of her arms, behind her knees. Her skin was too tight, too fevered. She was dangling over a precipice Booker refused to let her fall off.

Lifting up just a fraction, he kissed the top of her slit before murmuring, “You meant what you said? ‘Bout wantin’ me everywhere?”

It took her a moment to remember how speech and language worked, but once she did, the words flew from her mouth.

“Yes, yes, Jack, fucking yes.”

She felt him grin against her thigh before he nodded.

“A’ight then,” he said. “You tell me if I do somethin’ y’don’t like.”

Caitlin jerked her head in a yes, watching as he continued to eat at her happily.

Keeping two fingers deep inside her, he teased lower with his other hand, the pad of his thumb pressed at the tight bundle of nerves and muscle.

The low, guttural moan that escaped her was nearly feral.

He wasn’t able to go very far, but just the hint of it was enough to send Caitlin into the stratosphere.

“Holy fuck, Jack,” she gasped, barely registering she was biting her fist to keep from screaming.

Through the roar of blood in her ears, she could hear him groaning encouragements into her skin.

She never thought she could be driven mad with pleasure, but the longer he worked her over, the more she babbled—curses, praises, things she was certain weren’t even English.

“Please,” she croaked. “Jack.”

Glancing up through his lashes, he slowed his attentions.

“I need you in me.”

Licking her once, twice, a third time, Booker gently withdrew his fingers and arranged her quaking limbs around his hips.

Still enjoying the cat and mouse game, he dragged his cock through her slick folds, nudging her clit with each pass.

“Jack Booker, if you don’t fuck me right now,” she threatened, pulling herself up by his shoulders.

Laughing, he caught her by the hair, kissing her until she was drunk on him and the lingering taste of herself.

“That’s a new one,” he said, grinning against the corner of her mouth. “Never used my full name in bed before.”

“Never been frustrated enough to,” she said, digging her nails into his back.

“Alright, darlin’,” he murmured, lining himself up. “I’ll quit