The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,50
you, too.”
“That’s playing with fire,” he warned.
His black briefs were soft to the touch and painted over his muscular physique, and her mouth watered to pull his erection free. But first, she teased. Amanda followed the cut indentation of muscle to the top of his thighs, back to his hips, and then to his firm ass. Her fingernails bit into the hard flesh, and she sank to her knees.
His jeans piled at his feet. Hagan cursed when she tipped her chin up. The fire in his gaze made her tingle. “You’re too much for me.”
She rolled his boxer briefs down and freed his long, smooth length. “Liar,” she whispered against his crown. Her tongue darted out. Amanda licked the thick ridge of his cock, taking her time to feel his body tense before her lips opened over the top of his shaft.
“I lied,” he groaned. “You’re perfect for me.”
Amanda grinned, wrapped her hand around his thickness, and briefly pulled her mouth away. “I agree.”
She took him into her mouth again and worked her hand on his shaft. She needed more of him. Her eyes watered. There was a power in bringing his cock to her throat. Her terms. Her man. She pulled back and drank in oxygen, hungry for him to fill her again.
Hagan flexed and growled, nearly shaking to hold himself back. She wanted him to let go, to find what he needed with her—in her—as she was finding it with him.
Amanda gagged. He jerked back. Her hands grabbed for his ass. She willed him to understand that she was okay, that she enjoyed bringing him this much pleasure. Sucking him, tasting him, she’d found a way to own the moment, and it was more freeing than standing on top of a building.
Her mouth encircled his crown, and then she pulled back. Her lips nuzzled against his blunt head. “I need this.” Her tongue curled and swiped away a bead of precum. “I need you.”
The keycard and hotel brochure fell from his hand as though he couldn’t focus on anything but her. She cupped his sac and let her tongue play on his crown. She took him and teased him until any resistance had disappeared. Hagan flexed and thrust into her mouth. She took him, deep and hungry, until she couldn’t breathe, then again and again, crying for more, choking on the need to feel him throb and shudder.
His hands grasped the top of her head. He gasped her name in warning. The guttural cry electrified her body. She’d never needed another man’s pleasure like this before. Hagan’s orgasm thundered. He cried her name and trembled. In the middle of their newlywed suite, their luggage to one side, the key card at her knees, she drank him in until he eased away.
Amanda fell back and grinned. Her lips were numb, and her pussy soaked. “You look like you enjoyed that almost as much as me.”
It took Hagan a second to laugh. Then he kicked off his shoes and pants, hooked her under the arms, hauled Amanda to his chest, and kicked open the double doors that led to their bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The bedroom doors opened, and Hagan stopped short. Amanda wriggled to see what had frozen her half-naked man, and then she gasped. “Wow.”
He half-laughed. They both gaped. Their hot-and-heavy hurry had been doused with a saccharine explosion of cliché.
“If this isn’t romance, I don’t know what is.” Hagan carried her to the massive bed and set her down amid a thick blanket of white rose petals. “What more could my new wife want? Her man without pants, and the world’s largest stuffed bear.” He grabbed a large pink teddy that took up most of the bed and tossed it to her.
Amanda batted the bear away and propped herself up in the pile of rose petals. “This is a bit extra.” She kicked off her sandals and tossed a handful of petals at him, then noticed the placard on the bed. Welcome and Wishes for a Life Full of Love. “It’s the thought that counts?”
Still half-dressed, Hagan inspected a bottle of chilled champagne on the nightstand. “People need this to deal with that.”
She laughed and swiped away the petals until she reached the white eyelet cotton bedspread. “If you want to get your pants or—”
He cut her a quick look. “Like hell.” He lifted her off the bed and tore off the top layer of covers. Thousands of white petals fluttered onto the dark carpet. “Betcha room service doesn’t get