“You get even wetter after you come,” he tells me in my ear, his voice thick as syrup, then he quietly starts soaping my hair. “And these . . . are bigger and heavier.”
He runs soapy hands over my br**sts, and all my blood seems to be pumping south to my clit, and to the tips of my ni**les. “Yes,” I barely manage. “They’re so sensitive, they’re always puckered.”
“They want to be sucked,” he breathes against the back of my ear, and the way he rolls that in his tongue, as though he’s already tasting my puckered ni**les, makes my cl*t throb.
I can feel his erection on my back, and it’s so freaking hard, it pulses against my skin, and my tongue is restless in my mouth because I need to wrap it around the head of his c**k so badly. I take some soap and scrub my face, trying to get rid of all this makeup.
“There,” I say, turning and quickly lathering his hair.
He watches me with a smirk, like he knows the reason for my hurry. As I kneel and run shampoo over his hair and try to wash it off with a conch by the side of the tub, I straddle him so that the huge bulge of his erection—the huge delicious bulge—is right there, between my thighs, as I wash off his shampoo. He leans over and starts sucking the wet drops of water from my ni**les. I cry out, and he grabs my ass and drags me harder against the bulge while his sucking motions make my toes curl.
“Does that hurt?” he rasps, tugging the tip of a nipple with his teeth.
“No, ooh, Remy, it feels so good.”
He groans and rocks his h*ps to me as he repeats his sucking on my other breast.
“Shit, Brooke, I could come just sucking you, hearing you . . .”
“I could come being sucked . . . hearing you groan . . .”
He grabs one breast and sucks the other so hard, I whimper and start moving over his hips, and before I know it, I’m imagining lifting my hips, taking his c**k in me, and riding him, and begging him to fill me, again and again. He halts me.
“I’m not coming in a tub. The only place I’m coming is on you,” he rumbles.
“Take me to bed to fool around,” I anxiously breathe, wrapping my arms around his neck.
By the time he carries me out of the tub and wraps me in a towel, bringing me to bed, I’m a quaking mass of red-hot need. What he says next makes me quake even harder.
“I want to tear you to pieces, I want you so much. I want to pinch, bite, and suck your ni**les, all at once.” He lays me on the bed and opens the towel over me, then he immediately starts licking me dry. Oh god, I can’t breathe, think, I think I can’t even live as he starts pinching my ni**les while licking me elsewhere.
“Remington . . .”
He is mesmerizing. The atmosphere around me has changed until all we have is a bed, and me, and him. I swear I can feel the thunderbolts between our bodies. He swirls his tongue up my throat, and I almost break at the feel of his familiar, deliciously raspy calluses on my skin when he drags them down my curves. “I’ve seen you . . . in my head . . . every f**king hour of every day . . .” he murmurs.
He scents my neck and cups one breast again, and I shudder when he squeezes the flesh and licks my collarbone. My fingers run down his slick back, his every muscle delineated under my fingers, and oh my god, he is holding me. In his arms. He’s wet, the air cold, but all he wants is to dry and lick me.
I grab his stubbly jaw in both my hands. “Remington Tate,” I moan, crushing my mouth against his.
He takes my lips with even more force, sucking my tongue. “Brooke f**king Dumas.” Watching me with hot eyes, he tortures my ni**les with his thumbs, and I slide my hand down his body and start caressing his hard length.
“Make me kiss you.” Curling my fingers around the head of his erection, I suck greedily on his wet tongue. “Tell me to kiss you right here. If I can’t have you between my legs, I want you in my mouth.”
He groans and slides his hands up to my cheeks. “That’s where I want to be. The way you use your little teeth. Run that tongue over me like you want to live on me. I want to see these lips rimming the base of my c**k so bad, I won’t even last when I do . . .”
“God, shut up.” I dive and take his c**k in my mouth. Completely. Every hot pulsing inch that I can take, I take it.
A low, pained sound rips up his chest and he’s so hard and ready, I can immediately taste a few stray drops of se**n. My lashes sweep upward as I meet his gaze, and he’s looking at me with raw ecstasy, seeing my lips rim around his cock. Not the base . . . he’s too big, long, thick. But my lips are firmly wrapped around him as my tongue rubs his head.
I splay my hands on his abs to brace myself, and his abdomen clenches when I use my fingers to caress the star tattoo at his navel. My sex burns with need and complete jealousy of what my mouth has the pleasure of being filled with right now.
He nibbles the back of my ear softly and uses his hand to gently penetrate me. “I haven’t been able to have a decent night’s rest since you left. The bed is so empty I’m either having a cold shower, or at the gym,” he murmurs as he tugs on my earlobe. “But I get hard just thinking about you, Brooke. Thinking I put a baby in you.” He nibbles the back of my ear softly and sticks his finger in me. Shuddering with need, I feel the length of his c**k behind my bu**ocks, and he rocks it slightly to me, our h*ps moving. More delicious pleasure shoots through me when I realize he’s not done. He rolls me over to face him, wraps a leg around his hips. “Move with me,” he roughly commands, and then he’s moving against me, f**king me without f**king me, our bodies grinding and rubbing.
My chest fills with love as we kiss, then we watch each other. His blue eyes, spiky hair, those bulging muscles. My sex grips wantonly with each rocking motion of his h*ps that brings the entire length of his c**k rubbing along my pu**y lips, stroking my over-sensitized clit. I love you, I want to say, but the only sounds I can make are breathy bubbly ones.
“Who do you love?” he tenderly growls.
“You.”
“Who’s your man?” He teases his tongue into my mouth, then drags his deliciously raspy jaw along mine with a groan. “Who’s your man?”