Flame - Erin Noelle Page 0,73
he rasps, his hungry gaze flitting back and forth between my mystified eyes and trembling lips, “but right now, I need to taste that sweet mouth. I’ve been thinking about this moment for way too fucking long.”
Then, with a single caress of his lips and a lazy stroke of his tongue, he attempts to claim me yet again, and this time . . . this time, I just might let him.
MONDAY, OCTOBER 15
MINE. ALL FUCKING MINE. I know it. She knows it. And as I kiss her like a man possessed, I embrace my inner caveman and take what belongs to me, vowing to not let her run away again.
“Fuck, Dakota,” I mumble against her honeyed mouth, tasting the tropical glossy shit she always wears. “Why’d you stay away? I’ve needed this.” I nip at the swollen, rosy flesh of her full bottom lip, then swipe my tongue over the same spot to soothe away the pain. “I’ve needed you.”
Dakota moans softly as her body melds to my uninjured side, and the constraints around my heart loosen. Having her in my arms makes me forget about everything else. The physical pain from the crash, the disappointment and anger over not winning, and the hatred and complete lack of respect I have for Lance Foss . . . all of it, gone. She’s all that I want. All I can see. All I fucking need to be happy.
Moving us over to the weird looking bed-table thing, she climbs on top of the white sheets then I nudge her bare feet open and step between them, my cock stirring as I press against the top of her mound. “The door’s locked, right?” I ask, dropping my lips to just under her ear, delivering a string of kisses down her neck.
“Yessss,” she hisses as I cup her right breast over the pale yellow top, my thumb skimming across her nipple and piercing. Of course, my Sunshine’s in yellow.
“And we’ve got ninety minutes?” I kiss and nip at the delicate skin of her collarbone, frustrated when her shirt keeps getting in the way.
Her fingers twist into my hair and get a good, firm hold on the strands before she yanks my head back, forcing me to look in her face. A battle between pride and lust plays out in her eyes as her mouth quivers with uncertainty.
“Hulk, I don’t—I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’ve missed you so much . . . too much, and that’s the problem. I can’t lose myself in you like I did before, just for you to leave again.”
“Stop overthinking this shit so much, Dakota,” I rumble, jerking my head free from her grip as I lower my mouth back to where her pulse pounds wildly in the valley of her throat. “I’m not going anywhere, and if you wouldn’t have been so damn stubborn for the past three months, you’d have known that. I’m tired of giving you time. I’m not playing games anymore.”
She whimpers as my hand falls to the hem of her shirt and slips under the thin cotton, lightly feathering over the soft skin directly below her belly button. I feel her resolve weakening with each heartbeat. I just need her to let me back in, to remind her what it’s like when we’re together . . . what we’re like when we move as one.
“Like I promised, we’ll talk about everything later, but for right now, you’re cutting into my time to reacquaint myself with this sexy fucking body that belongs to me.” Dipping my fingers beneath the elastic waistband of her yoga pants, I brush the tips over her lace panties, already damp from her hot cunt. “And I’ve only got eighty-five minutes left, Sunshine.”
She slides her hand in between us and grabs my throbbing cock outside my jeans. “Then quit talking so fucking much, Hulk,” she purrs in my ear. There’s my girl. “Ooh, button fly. My favorite,” she adds with a sexy smirk.
“Take them off for me,” I say, leaning back slightly to give her room to work.
Seconds later, all the buttons are unfastened and my jeans and boxers are tangled around my ankles, my poor, neglected cock standing at full attention. I’m pissed I’ve only got one hand to work with, only one hand to touch her with, but I’ll fucking get over it. The important shit still works.
My shirt has to stay on due to the sling and soft cast I got