Enemy Down - Cathryn Fox Page 0,40

scoops me up, setting me in the passenger side of his Jeep. I still can’t quite get enough air as he circles the front, and climbs in beside me, his big presence eating up the space and completely overwhelming me. The smell of his freshly soaped skin reaches my nostrils and my girly parts tingle as I breathe him in.

Five agonizing minutes later, he carries me up the long flight of stairs at the back of Wolf House, and when we reach his bedroom, he steps inside, kicks his door shut with a hell of a lot of force, and sets the lock. The sound of the bolt sliding home sends shivers through my overheated body.

I stare at him as he sets me on my feet, shoves his jacket from my shoulders, and presses my back to the door. The fierce energy radiating off him glides over my skin. Is he always like this after a game, or does this have more to do with the tension that has been building between us?

His head dips, his lips a breath away from mine, and a whimper catches in my throat. My God, I don’t think I’ve ever whimpered in my life. He cups my face, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.

“This fucking mouth.” He shoves his thumb between my lips and I suck. “I can’t stop thinking about fucking this mouth,” he murmurs and draws his thumb out to put his hands on my ribcage, his thumbs touching the underside of my breasts. “I want to fuck you everywhere.”

I gulp, and he stands back, his hands falling as he looks me over, like he’s gauging my reaction to his crass words. I’m sure the quiver in my body is a dead giveaway—to him and me—how much I like it. Who knew I’d like dirty talk?

His gaze rakes over me, and something flashes in his eyes. Need, want…worry? For one quick second, I think he’s changed his mind about going any further with me, but then his gaze jerks back up to mine, and like he’s no longer in control of himself, he picks me up again like I weigh nothing, and carries me to his bed. He sets me down, drops to his knees, and with little effort removes my boot. He lightly runs his fingers along my ankle after he frees it from the binding, and the rest of my body aches for that kind of attention.

“Better?” he asks, his voice deep and labored as he stands, and I can’t stop myself from staring at the huge bulge in his jeans. Christian is aroused…because of me. That thought does the strangest things to the needy spot between my legs and my throat grows dry with desire.

“Yeah,” I manage to get out, and I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip as I envision myself with his cock in my mouth. His growl pulls me back from my musings.

“Look at me, Maize.” My head lifts as his commanding tone dampens my panties even more. What is it about his take-charge attitude that turns me on so much? I don’t know but…please don’t stop.

His fingers fist and relax again at his sides. I get the sense that it’s taking all his effort to keep it together, and that thought turns me on even more.

“Been taking care of yourself for a long time huh?”

I grip the bedsheets, curl them in my fingers. “Yes.”

He sinks to the floor, crawls toward me, and grips my knees. He widens my legs and slides one hand up my inner thigh, touching my sex through my clothes.

“So gorgeous.” He widens my legs even more and the second he touches me, his rough finger caressing my swollen clit through my pants, my synapses stop firing and my body burns with an unfamiliar want.

He presses his finger a little harder against my clit, drawing my attention down. “Even here?” My God, no one has ever asked me such a personal question before. I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing. He cocks his head. “It’s easy, Maize. Yes or no?”

“No…Yes, I mean…I don’t know.” With my Catholic upbringing kicking in, I try to slam my thighs shut, but he won’t let me. I’m strong, but he’s stronger. He sits there waiting for an answer, his hand still on my clit, as my brain races. Ryan and I fumbled around in the dark and it’s far too bright in this room. When I touch myself, I do it without

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