Real (Real #1)

Real (Real #1) Page 26

My body melts into his hard one until his strong arm, coiled around my small waist, is all that holds me upright. I don’t know if I’m bad for him, or him for me. All I know is that this is as inevitable as an incoming tsunami, and I’m just bracing for the swim of my life.

We taste and suckle each other, and I’m so thirsty he could feed me his kiss all night and I’d still be dying in the desert. He grips my hair tighter in one fist and keeps me in place as though he fears I’ll pull away from his delicious mouth, and I’m so afraid this is a dream that my fingers tighten reflexively in his wet hair because if there’s a fire in this hotel, if an army of crazy fans comes storming inside, or if Scorpion himself comes into this bedroom, I am still not letting Remington Tate take his mouth off me.

The wet heat of his mouth unravels me, makes me so high, I moan and suck lightly on his thick tongue, loving how Remington groans with me and pushes it deeper, giving me more.

He grows restless. Among the slick kissing sounds echoing in the room, his drawstring pants rustle as he shoves them down his legs, his arm muscles bulging as they clench against me. The linen fabric pools at our feet, and then he rams his thumbs into the front opening of my bra and yanks at opposite sides until it jerks loose. My breasts bounce free and my bra hits the floor.

I’ve never felt so full until he cups the swells in one big hand and has to lift it higher to suck. He laves my nipples with his tongue, first one, and then the other, and he engulfs both gentle curves with his hands and scrapes his calluses against my straining nipples. I moan gratefully when he sticks his tongue back in my mouth because I’m just so hungry I can’t stop shuddering.

The slick kissing sounds echo around us once more. He squeezes one breast and shoves a hand between my legs, cupping me under my panties. He rubs me with the heel of his palm, and then rubs his longest finger along the moist folds of my entrance. Tremors of anticipation ripple in my womb.

He tears his mouth free, sets his forehead on mine, and watches as his hand moves sinuously under my white cotton panty. We’re so breathless I don’t expect his voice, guttural and rough as it explodes on my face, his forehead still resting on mine as he watches his hand caress my wetness. “Tell me this is for me.”

My arms clench around his strong neck as he teases the very tip of his finger inside, and a mind-blowing pleasure bolts through me. “It’s for you.” Gasping, I kiss hard temple, his jaw. A sound of protest leaves me when he withdraws his hand, then he grabs the edges of my panties, and tears them off in a single breath.

Excitement runs through me. He grabs me by the waist and flips us around, slamming me back against the wall. My legs fly around him as he cups my ass in his hands, and the next second I feel him—there, at my entry. His hardness meets all the exterior part of my slick wetness, and he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand.

“Are you mine?” he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me.

I gasp. Undone. Delirious. “I’m yours.”

His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. “Do you want me inside you?”

My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. “I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.”

His hand trembles with restraint as he withdraws it and, once again, he settles his erection between my legs. He doesn’t enter, but he allows me to feel what he will give me. Our gazes cling desperately as we rub. We rock our hips together. We pant. We want. And I can’t take my eyes off him.

He’s even more beautiful than when he fights and is cocky and angry. More beautiful than when he trains and is sweaty and tired. More so than when he’s smiling and playful. Even more than when he’s thoughtful and relaxed being rubbed down with oil. He’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen—his face taut and raw with need, his eyes dark and half-open, his nostrils flaring, his mouth parted to breathe, his neck chorded with veins, his tan deeper and darker as his overpowering arousal rushes color through his skin.

He holds my arms imprisoned as he caresses me with his hardness. Tempting me. Promising me. All I can do is whimper in a silent plea for him to take me. My sex ripples. My blood storms through my body. I’m being claimed by the man I love, and I am ready.

I.

Am.

Ready.

Darkened blue eyes watch me for a heart-stopping moment. One second I’m empty, the next he’s in me. He fills me slowly, and carefully, like I’m his prized treasure and he doesn’t want to break me—as if he thinks no one else will receive him as snugly, and willingly, and lovingly as me. He’s wide and hard, all man, plowing firmly into me. He shudders and groans as my sex muscles grip his pulsing length, and he’s so big. A new whimper comes, almost painful as I squirm, wanting more, wanting less. Deciding my need for more is beyond anything, I drop down even farther and throw my head back, a weak sound escaping me as my body adjusts.

Gently he grabs both my breasts in his callused hands and pushes his tongue in me until I swallow my own scream and drink everything his tongue feeds me. He’s pulsing fiercely in my channel, holding himself fully seated inside. My body trembles in delirium when he drops his head and runs his tongue over my jaw, along my chin, down my neck. When he suckles a nipple into his hot mouth, my insides grip as my orgasm starts building, and I shudder in fevered heat and thrust my hips wantonly against his.

“Remy,” I beg as my arms tighten around his neck. I clench my thighs around him, tilting my pelvis. The move shoots excruciating pleasure through my body as his hardness drags inside me. My eyes roll into the back of my head.

I’m not going to last. He’s too big, feels too good, I need him too much.

“Remy…” I moan, out of my mind, rocking my hips. “Please, please … move.”

He groans as though he’s afraid not to last, either. But he tries to please me, and withdraws, and then thrusts back in. We’re both undone, and a similar desperate sound of pleasure tears from our throats. He repeats the motion of his hips and drops his forehead to mine with a growl of restraint, and then he starts kissing me like his life depends on it.

“Brooke,” he rasps into my mouth. His hands clench on my hips as he pulls out and plunges back in, deep enough to bury every inch in me. He immediately goes off. The warmth of his incredibly violent convulsions and the powerful jerks of his cock shuddering inside me take me. Tremors crash through my body. My systems stall and restart as a bunch of stars fall through the back of my eyelids.

I clutch his muscled body as it clenches and twists against mine, licking his neck as his muscular body strains and finally relaxes. He growls in quiet satisfaction into my temple.

We continue panting and gently rocking our hips even as the orgasms stop, and Remington vibrates against me with so much need, he doesn’t even let me catch my breath.

He grabs me by the ass, my legs still locked around his lean hips, and carries me to the bed. He’s still inside me, still hard.

He sets me down and props a pillow under my head, and then he starts moving inside me, so slowly I mew and rake my nails down his back, watching him brace up on his shoulders, loving his perfect arms, his perfect thick throat, his face undone with pleasure as he starts fucking me fast and hard, like an animal. My nipples throb just looking into his lust-darkened eyes.

He brings his head to mine and pushes his tongue until I swallow my own gasps. “You wanted me.” His breaths come fast, his eyes wild. “Here I am.”

He fucks his cock into me ten times, fast and hard, making me yelp in delight of his claiming, and when my muscles seize up and my body prepares for another earth-shattering orgasm, he lets me come, keeping the frantic pace, and then growls and prolongs his own orgasm, pulling out to rub himself over my skin.

Quaking, my throat rumbles with a moan as he drags the slickened head of his cock along my inner thigh while one of his hands caresses a throbbing breast tip. I’ve always liked my B cups, but they feel small and fragile in his big, callused hands.

He groans, though, like he really likes to squeeze them, and twirls his tongue up my neck. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long, little firecracker.”

Pleasure shoots across my nerve endings as he pinches and tweaks. His teeth graze the skin under my jawline, exposed when I arch up to his body.

His muscles surround me, hard and strong, clenching and flexing, his cock gut-wrenchingly hard and sexy, rubbing all over my body and smearing his semen on me. I’m so delirious, I want to have this man inside my sex, my mouth, and in my hands, all at once.

He suddenly plunges back into my sheath, harder and deeper, his fingers digging into my hips, and I’m still so wet and swollen, I meet his every thrust, desperately moaning his name. “Remington.”

This isn’t about foreplay. It’s about claiming and taking, about relieving this throbbing, painful physical ache that is so powerful, it makes my soul hurt. But I’m singing inside now. I can’t even believe the way he smells, the way he feels. More than all my fantasies.

And I realize while I’m gasping please, oh god, you’re so hard, you feel so good, he has his own chant, telling me so sweet and wet as he licks every part of me he can. I love that he rubbed his scent on me, that he licks me everywhere, that I get to feel his teeth, his calluses, his skin, the bite of his blunt fingertips on my flesh.

Wild sounds tear out of me, ragged like my breaths. There’s no way for me to trap these raw, lustful noises. The deeper ones Remington makes make me crazy. He surges back to watch my breasts bounce as he fucks me fiercely hard, and his eyes glow like a predator’s as his hips slam against mine. He’s primal, animal, taking me, and he’s mine.

My teeth knock as my body grips every inch of his thrusting cock. My fingers dig into his drool-worthy buttocks as I draw him in deeper, twisting under his weight until I snap. I release a cry when his warmth spills inside me, and he follows with a low moan, clenching my hips as he slows the pace until we’re a mass of tired muscles and bones, sweat slicked and entangled on the bed.

I feel delicious afterward. Loose and warm, and very, very wanted.

Sighing, I grab one heavy male arm and drape it around my shoulders so I can snuggle in the nook against his chest, and then I kiss his nearest nipple. He has the sexiest, smallest, brownest, most perfectly pointed man nipples I’ve ever seen, without a single hair anywhere on his chest. Just kissing it makes my sex clench again, even when it’s completely sore.

He grabs my languid body and positions me right above his body as he lies flat on his back, like he’s my bed and my legs run down the length of his, my body face down as he faces the ceiling. We’re abs to abs, belly button to belly button. He nuzzles his nose across my temple as he slowly caresses my ass. “You smell of me.”

“Hmmm,” I say.

He clenches one ass cheek in his hand and buzzes his nose into my temple. “What does hmmm mean?”

I smile in the darkness. “You said it first.”

“It means I want to eat you. Your little biceps. Your little triceps.” He kisses me on the mouth and drags his tongue over my lips. “Now you.”