Indecision shadowed her gaze. But so did the desire making a mockery of his control. After a moment, she sighed. And whispered, “We’re going to have sex, aren’t we?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
Then he crushed his mouth to hers.
CHAPTER FOUR
MISTAKE. THIS WAS such a huge mistake.
And Cherrie didn’t give a damn.
Not with Maddox’s mouth molded to hers. Not with his tongue thrusting, tangling and, God yes, tasting. Not with his hungry moans pouring into her as he devoured her.
Not with his hard, thick and—she whimpered—big cock nudging her belly.
Yes, she might regret this decision to curl her fingers around his biceps, rise on her toes and open wider for him, but at this moment? Nothing else mattered.
One hand in her hair and the other clamped around her hip, he guided her backward, and she trusted him to keep her safe. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the erotic mesh of their mouths. Every lick and suck catapulted the craving that had been taunting her since she’d first laid eyes on him the previous evening into the stratosphere. She wanted to soar there. Wanted him to send her there.
Sliding her palms up his arms, she wound hers around his neck and jumped, wrapping her legs around his lean waist. And placing her sex in direct alignment with his erection. She whimpered, a bolt of pure lust pile-driving through her and propelling the breath out of her lungs.
Wrenching her mouth away, she dropped her head back and muttered, “Oh God. You feel...”
She didn’t have a chance to complete the sentiment, because he yanked her head back up, took her lips again. He didn’t let up. Not even when her back met the ground and his big body settled between her legs, covering her. Ravenous. It was the only word to describe how he consumed her. No part of her mouth went undiscovered, untouched. And she surrendered to the hunger, let him have free rein because in his taking, he gave. Lord, did Maddox give.
He held nothing back from her. Not his eager moans, the intensity of his need for her, his hoarse words of praise in between the small, tender bites. Just a kiss and she’d never felt so...desired. So vital.
He peppered hot, damp kisses over her lips, cheeks, jaw and chin, then dragged his mouth down her neck, grazing his teeth along her skin. Pausing to gently bite the tendon that ran along the column. She clutched his shoulders, arching her neck and back, silently pleading for more of that tender caress that skated the thin edge of pain.
His big palms stroked the sides of her breasts, her torso, until he fisted the edge of her tank top. “Okay?” he asked, his narrowed gaze on hers. Studying her. Probably for any signs of indecision.
He wouldn’t find any.
She was in. So far in she couldn’t see her way out. That both exhilarated and terrified her.
“Okay,” she said, leveling off the blanket so he could yank the top over her head. She returned the favor by balling his T-shirt in her fingers and tugging the cotton up. Reaching behind his head, he finished the deed by whipping it off. Leaving that wide, muscled chest—spattered with auburn hair—bared to her eyes. “More than okay.” She trailed her fingers over his defined pectorals, glancing across the small, flat nipples.
His growl vibrated in the air, and she smiled. Repeated the teasing caress.
“That’s not nice, baby,” he warned.
“Return the favor.” She stretched her arms above her head, offering her silk-covered breasts to him.
Before she completed the sentence, he captured the beaded tip between his teeth and drew on it. She cried out, the crackling pleasure pulling her higher, tauter.
“Not enough,” he muttered against her, and in moments, her bra disappeared from between them and his tongue and teeth ravished her bare flesh. His hand cupped and squeezed the other heavy breast, readying it for the same sensuous torture its twin received.
“Maddox,” she whined, twisting, shaking beneath him, beneath his relentless and wicked mouth. Fingers cradling his head, she pressed him to her, demanding he give her everything.
He fed on her as if she were every alcoholic drink he’d ever downed, and his single goal was to get drunk on her. Switching breasts, he played with the damp peak, twisting and pinching while his lips and tongue licked, nibbled and sucked.
“God, you’re more gorgeous than I imagined. And believe me, baby,” he whispered, trailing kisses down the center of her torso, “I did a lot of imagining.”
His praise glowed within her like the golden rays that attempted to break through the thick awning of leaves. She accepted her body, even loved her body, in spite of her ex’s attempts to shame her. But God, to hear Maddox express how beautiful he found her...how desirable. Even the most confident woman needed to hear that. Especially from the person she gave her vulnerability and body to.
“I want to see all of you.” He sat back on his heels, his gaze meeting hers—burning into hers—as his fingers worked the button and zipper of her jeans. When she didn’t move to stop him, he quickly divested her of the denim, panties and boots. Belated modesty decided to rear its inconvenient head, and she crossed her arm over her not-flat stomach and angled one leg over the other, concealing herself.
“All of you. Don’t try to hide from me,” he reiterated. “You’re a fantasy. My fantasy, and it seems like I’ve waited forever to have you. Not going to let you deprive me of it. Of you.”
She blinked, his words—the admiration in them, the possessiveness in them—sending her mentally reeling. His fantasy? Had she ever been anyone’s—
“Oh God.” The words exploded from her as his mouth opened over her sex. She hadn’t even realized he’d parted her legs, much less... “Maddox,” she groaned, ecstasy bursting inside her like a geyser.
Without her permission, her legs fell open on either side of his wide shoulders, granting him even more room, easier access. She peered down her body, and the sight of his eyes closed, cheekbones flushed red, thick auburn hair spread over her thighs, his lips wet with...
“Holy hell.” Her hips bucked, writhed, seeking more of that devasting and dirty pleasure.
Tunneling her fingers through his cool, dark red strands, she held him close, unconcerned with anything but chasing the beautiful, stunning orgasm that threatened to crack her in half.
“I could drown in you.” He thrust a finger inside her—no, two—filling her. Oh, Jesus. She wasn’t going to survive his voice, his mouth and his hand. “I could drown in you and never want to come up for air.”
He latched onto her again, his talented and devilish tongue swiping over the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, torturing her with flicks and firm but indulgent licks. Tremors rippled through her, leaving her shaking, and nearly incoherent cries spilled from her.