always thoughtful, methodical, all about his intended prey. He didn’t know if he could keep this time all about Breezy. Fortunately, she responded to his aggression.
He felt aggressive. He felt dominant. He wanted her a million times in a million ways. He never wanted her out of his sight again. She thought it was a great concession that he said she could go with them to get their son. He would never have left her behind. When he stripped her jeans from her, he took her panties as well, leaving her completely naked.
She took his breath away. For a moment, all he could do was look at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Bree.” Before she could respond, he swept his arm around her, locking her close and bent his head to her breast. He wasn’t gentle. She didn’t like gentle. She liked—him. His method of seduction. She thought he fucked her. He had fucked hundreds, maybe more, in his earlier years. He knew this wasn’t that. With Breezy, it had never been that, no matter how rough with her he got—and he needed rough.
His mouth was hot and wet, and her breasts were soft, made for him. He used his teeth and tongue, tugging and rolling her nipple. Suckling hard and then abruptly changing it up, so that she never knew which sensation she was going to get from his mouth or hands. He could spend hours working her body. Hours. He had before, keeping her on edge, right on that very brink, never letting her tip over until he allowed it. He loved that shit. Loved that she gave him that. He knew the sound of her voice. Those mews. Those pleas. The little sobbing gasp of his name. He knew when she was ready and that she’d go big. So big. The orgasms would rush over her, taking them both, drowning them, rolling them in so much pleasure he couldn’t see straight.
His woman. Breezy. There was no one else in the world like her. No one else for him. No one could make him as hard as a fucking rock. They couldn’t make him fight for control. That was all her. He kissed his way down her stomach. So soft. She’d nestled his child there and he hadn’t been there for that. He hadn’t kissed her the way he was doing now, showing her he loved every inch of her, pregnant or not.
He dropped to his knees, yanking her legs apart and then he had the taste of her in his mouth and she was keening that soft little sound that drove him out of his mind. Breezy. She gave him solace. She gave him everything. Things he didn’t think possible. He gave her everything he was and more. When he was with her, he was a man, not a monster.
He drove her up fast, using his teeth and tongue. His fingers. He was greedy for her, that aphrodisiac only she could provide. For him, her taste had been addicting from the first moment he’d put his mouth on her.
Her hands went to his shoulders, gripping hard, fingers digging into his flesh right through his shirt. She threw back her head as her body came apart, rippling around his fingers. She’d had a baby, yet she felt tight to him, and there was always that thrill of wondering if he was going to fit, to stretch her beyond her means to take him.
He was up, spinning her around, pressing her to the glass while he undid his jeans with one hand and took his heavy cock in his hand, positioning, pressing home. She was home. She would always be home.
“Use a condom.”
“I’m clean.” He didn’t want anything between them. He never had.
“You don’t know that, Steele. Use a condom or we don’t go there.” Even as she dictated to him, she was pressing back against him, her breath coming in ragged little explosive gasps.
“Baby, I’m telling you I know for a fact that I’m clean. I had to be inside those bitches to get unclean and that didn’t happen. Let me. I need you right now, Bree. I swear to you on my fucking colors that I’m clean.”
He was lodged there, her heat and fire surrounding the crown of his cock. Squeezing him tightly. Pulling at him. Her body as greedy for his as his was for her. He waited, and it nearly killed him. Thunder roared in his ears. He felt a jackhammer pounding relentlessly at his