When He's An Alpha (The Olympus Pride #2) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,40

whispered. “And I don’t think you want me to either.” He smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone. “I meant it when I said I missed you.”

“You missed fucking me,” she corrected.

“That, too.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “Still miss the taste and feel of your pussy. So fucking sweet and tight. I liked knowing no one else could have it … that only my mouth could taste it … that only my hands could touch it … that only my dick could fuck it. I was far more possessive of it than I had the right to be.” He punched his hips forward, snuggling his cock—God, he was so hard—against her pussy. “Hmm, there it is. I can smell how wet it is for me.” He moved his mouth to her ear. “I want it, Havana.”

She hitched in a breath as he ground his cock against her, hitting her clit just right. Her nipples seemed to tighten even more, and her aching pussy spasmed. She grabbed onto the countertop behind her—it was her only anchor right then.

God help her, she wanted him inside her. There. Now. Hard and fast and rough.

But that would be bad. Right? She didn’t know. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t reason. As if the intense chemistry in the air had made her brain shrivel up.

He skimmed his nose along the side of her face. “Let me have you.” He lightly nipped her jaw. “Let me.” It wasn’t a plea. Wasn’t even a request. It was an attempt to lure, cajole, entice. An invitation to sin and submit.

She shivered as he dipped his head and his breath fanned her hypersensitive neck. Without thinking, she tilted her head slightly to give him better access. A growl of approval rumbled its way up his chest.

He pressed kisses along her throat. “Let me give us what we both want, Havana.”

She bit back a moan as he ground against her clit yet again. Hell, she was going to cave, and she knew it. There was only so much a girl could take.

If he’d tried bossing her into giving in, she could have resisted—even if only to be contrary. But he’d coaxed, seduced, charmed. She found that a lot harder to fight … which he knew perfectly well, the tricky cat. And, honestly, she didn’t want to fight it.

Maybe Bailey was right. Maybe if Havana took the time to burn out what she felt for him and work him out of her system, she’d get the closure she needed.

He lifted his head and slid his fingers into her hair. “I need this.”

He wasn’t alone in that. One night, she decided. She’d allow herself one last night with him, even though … “It probably isn’t a good idea.” She let out a shaky breath as he lowered his face to hers, leaving their mouths mere inches apart.

“Tell me you don’t want this. If you can say it and mean it, I’ll step back. I will.” So slowly it was agonizing, he lowered his face that little bit more … until their mouths touched as he said, “Tell me you don’t want it.”

She couldn’t. She didn’t. And he seemed to take that for the surrender that it was.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Fisting her hair, Tate took her mouth and plunged his tongue inside. And there it was—that sweetly addictive taste that had set up a craving in him four months ago. He groaned, long and loud. Fuck if he hadn’t missed it.

As need exploded between them, he used his grip on her hair to angle her head and sank his tongue deeper. The kiss was hot. Wet. Hungry. Urgent. He couldn’t get enough.

He swore he could get fucking drunk on her taste—it made his head spin, just like her delectable scent that now perfumed the air laced with arousal. It made his inner feline frantic for her, like her scent was fucking catnip.

Tate growled low in his throat as she thrust her fingers through his hair and wildly scratched at his scalp. The sting made his rock-hard dick throb painfully. He roughly ground against her clit again and again, feeling the heat of her pussy through their jeans.

Neither of them had much control. They were both frantic and desperate, yanking at each other’s clothes. Soon, both his tee and her blouse were gone. She curled one leg over his hip just as he cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple through the black lace of her bra.

Arching into his hand, she tore her lips free to take