J Ward - Crave

“Fifty-fifty.”

Well, didn’t that give her a knot in her throat. “That bad, huh.”

“Do you want something to eat along with the coffee? I’m no chef, but I saw some leftovers in the fridge and I can work a microwave.” When she begged off, he tacked on, “You have to eat.”

“I’d rather have sex with you,” she blurted.

Isaac coughed. Actually coughed, like someone had punched him in the solar plexus.

“Sorry if that’s too blunt.” She shrugged. “But social graces are waaaaay down my list of things to worry about right now. And I have a feeling I’m not going to see you after tomorrow night, either because you’re swept up into federal custody or because…” She took a deep breath. “I want a proper piece of you before you go. Something to remember you with that’s in my skin, not just my brain. Upstairs was so fast and furious… I want to pay attention and remember.”

He was silent for a long time. “I’d think you’d want to forget as much of this as you can.”

“Not you… I don’t want to forget you.” The corner of her mouth lifted a little. “Although I don’t think I could.”

When he stayed where he was, she pushed her chair back and stood up. The distance between them took three strides to cross, and as she came at him, he straightened; then he tugged his sweatshirt down like he was tidying himself up.

Grier rose onto her tiptoes and touched his face, putting her palms on his five o’clock shadow. “I’m never going to forget you.”

As he licked his lips, like he was hungry for exactly what she was after, she took his hand and drew him deeper into the wine cellar, pulling him fully inside, shutting them in together.

Unlike the first time, when she’d been all wound up and seeking only more of the cyclone, this was about him, the man, not her own internal buzzing.

This was all about him.

As she leaned in to kiss him, he put his big hands on her thin wrists and held her off gently. “This didn’t help upstairs.”

“Yes. It did. You just didn’t believe me.”

“Grier…” Her name was a combination of confusion and desperation: why spelled with five new letters instead of the usual three.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she murmured, fixated on his mouth.

“You sure?”

When she nodded, he bent down and pressed his lips against hers, drawing her into him. He was fully aroused, more than ready for her, and yet he moved her back.

Before she could protest, she heard the click of the lock sliding into place and then those warm hands slipped under her shirt and slid around her rib cage, going to the small of her back. As she felt a gentle, lifting pressure, her feet came up off the floor and she was carried over to the table.

Pushing the dossiers to the side, Isaac laid her out flat, his palms moving to her breasts as he bent over her and kept their mouths fused. Her yoga pants were off her legs a moment later, but instead of tossing them, he put them over the chair she’d been in. Smart. No telling whether she was going to have to get dressed fast in the middle.

A subtle pull and her hips were right at the edge of the table… and then he broke their kiss and sank down onto his knees.

If she’d thought she’d seen his eyes burn before, it was nothing compared to what they were doing now. Frost had never been so hot.

As she got an idea where he was headed, she sat up. “But I want this to be for both of us-”

“You said you wanted to remember something.” His palms slid up to the tops of her thighs and squeezed. “So lie back and let me do my thing.”

That tongue of his made a reappearance-and didn’t that make her get on board with the plan.

“G’on now,” he murmured with that Southern drawl. “Lie on back and let me take care of you. I promise to go slow… real slow.”

His hands drifted down to her knees and spread her legs… and she gave herself up to him. Following his instructions to the letter, she felt the hard table against her shoulder blades and the cool air on her thighs and a wild heat in her blood.

As he stared at her from beneath his brows, he looked as if he were going to consume her.

And she was ready to be his meal.

Ducking his head, he went right where she needed him, putting his mouth on her sex through the thin silk panties she wore. A rush of delicious heat bloomed and her hand snapped out, grabbing the pants, dragging them over, putting them in her mouth to keep herself from calling out.

If it felt this good already, she was going to get noisy: Yes, the door to the cellar was heavy and her father was supposedly asleep, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Isaac groaned against her as he nuzzled at her through the silk, and then he ran his tongue up the fragile strip that covered her. On a curse, she arched hard, her nails scratching the wood beneath her as his hands dug into her thighs and her teeth bit into the cotton. And then there was nothing separating them. One moment his mouth was on the silk; the next, she felt a yank on her hips and heard a tearing sound as the panties gave way-

Oh, God… his wet tongue slipped into the heart of her and dragged upward, parting her, sliding slick against slick.

He did go slow.

As his big palms locked on her hips and held her down, he took his sweet time, kissing her and sucking at her, that tongue of his working its magic, only to be replaced with the hot, locking suction of his lips. All the while, he stared up at her, watching her breasts surge as she writhed under his mouth.

Abruptly, as if he needed to touch what he was seeing, his hands went under her shirt again and honed in on what he seemed captivated with. Unleashing the front clasp of her bra, he took possession of her on both sides, his thumbs rubbing at her nipples.

Her breath pumped in and out of her open mouth, and just as she was about to orgasm, Isaac inched back and licked his glossy lips.

“Come for me,” he said. “I want to feel it.”

And then he was against her once more, his tongue penetrating her-which was all it took. Her release rocked her, rolling out from her sex and taking over every inch of her body. As the swirl of sparks consumed her, she was dimly aware of him groaning, as if he felt her clenching pleasure firsthand.

He didn’t stop there. Swirling, lapping, sucking… he kept going, spreading her legs even wider, holding her in place as he marked her memory as sure as he marked her sex. She would never forget this-

One of his long fingers, or maybe two, eased inside, and the pressure and stretching sent her right over the edge again. As another orgasm fired off, her hands locked on his forearms, her nails sinking into his flesh as her spine torqued and that blast of pleasure flooded her from the inside out.

And still he didn’t stop.

He was hot and he was wild and he was relentless.

He was the lover she would never, ever forget.

Much less get over, she feared.

Oh, sweet Jesus…

Isaac looked up from between Grier’s legs and nearly climaxed just at the sight of her. She was all woman undone, the remnants of her white panties around her hips, her black shirt around her throat, her bra halves lying to the sides. Her breasts were tight at the pink tips and her face flushed and her belly moving on a rhythm of surges and relentings as she worked herself against him.

Those pants in her mouth were one of the sexiest parts of it.

And the taste of her was even hotter than that.

Isaac could have stayed where he was for hours, but with each passing moment he ran the risk of an interruption and he wanted to finish this properly.

Rising up and looming above her, he bent her knees to her chest, his cock twitching on the edge of orgasm at the sight of the glistening heart of her all swollen and open for him. There was no ditching his pants-he pushed them down just enough to spring his erection… which wept at the tip as he thought of where he was going. Sweeping his hand over his wet mouth, he brought his palm to the head of his shaft, slicking himself up even more before he curled the end of his spine and brought them together.