Wilder

Then I used both hands to explore the lines of his chest, his abs, leaving no inch of skin untouched. He had various tattoos running the length of his arm, some down his abdomen, and tiny scars peppered his otherwise perfect skin.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice low.

“That you are pretty much every fantasy come to life,” I answered. “I can’t believe I get to touch you.”

He ran his hands up my rib cage until he cupped my breasts. “I was thinking pretty much the same thing. Except dirtier. You’re way too good for me.”

“Good?” I asked, raising my hips and sliding down to his thighs so his erection sprung between us. Then I took hold of it at the base with one hand and caressed the length with the other.

“Fuck,” he moaned, arching his hips into my hands. He grasped my hips, his fingers tightening on me. “Leah,” he warned.

I ran my thumb over the head of his dick, and he groaned, his stomach muscles tensing. Having him under me, losing his control because of me, was intoxicating. I moved him again through my grip, reveling in the juxtaposition of soft skin and the steel underneath. That thought sent another ache shooting straight through me. He was beautiful, his throat working, neck arching, face tight with restraint…and he was mine.

As if he sensed me watching him, his eyes snapped open. “Enough,” he growled, and flipped me to my back, rising above me before kissing every rational thought from my head. “You push me closer to the edge than anyone I’ve ever met,” he said against my mouth.

“Good,” I fired back. I didn’t want to think about every other girl he’d taken to bed, every woman who’d put her hands on him, felt the power flexing beneath his surface, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t well aware of how many there had been.

I closed my eyes against the unwelcome thoughts, wanting this minute to be special, to be different. You’re the only one he’s claimed as his, I reminded myself, but that sliver was under my skin, stealing some of my joy.

“You enjoy testing me?” he asked between kisses, one of his hands weaving through my hair while the other caressed my side, stoking the fire that was already burning within me.

“Yes,” I admitted. His fingers flirted with the waist of my shorts. And I was almost ready to tear them off myself before he flicked open the button.

“Why?” he asked, licking and sucking the sensitive skin at the base of my neck.

I arched my hips, hoping he’d get the message that I wanted his hands, and I wanted them now. “Paxton,” I pleaded when he didn’t move.

He met my eyes as he slid the shorts down my legs, and I was more than happy to help. Then his hands stroked back up, his thumbs lightly tracing my scars, but he still didn’t look away. Even when his thumbs stroked along the V of my panties, he held my gaze, that look hotter than any caress could have been.

Until he ran his thumb over my core, nothing but a scrap of lace between us. “Damn, you’re soaking wet,” he said, his eyes momentarily closing as he took a deep breath. I wasn’t embarrassed—I was desperate, and if he didn’t put his hands on me soon, I was going to combust. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” I said instantly.

“Tell me why you like to test me,” he prodded, using his thumb to press on my clit through the material.

My hips bucked. “Paxton, please,” I begged.

He pressed again, dragging the material across the sensitive nerves. “Tell me.”

I hated how much control he had over me in bed as much as I loved his ability to turn me molten with a simple movement. “Why?”

He licked a path between my breasts until he ended at my mouth, kissing me deeply. My hips rocked against his hand, but he moved with me, unwilling to give me the friction I needed. “Because I don’t like whatever thought crept into your eyes a minute ago. Because I want this—want you—too badly to let anything else into this bed besides the two of us.”

My fingers flexed on the muscles of his shoulders. “Because I want you to remember this—remember me.” Because I want to be the one you don’t forget when this is over.

His hands found my ass, and he jerked me against him, his dick rubbing right where I wanted him, and I whimpered. “I will always remember this.” His thumbs tucked into the straps of my panties, and he dragged them down my legs, leaving me utterly bare in front of him. His breath was ragged as his eyes followed the reverse path back up. “You are so fucking exquisite.” He stroked my hips, then dipped to my waist before reaching my breasts and cupping them. “You’re curved everywhere that drives me crazy, and that little gasp you make”—he thrust against me while rolling my nipples and I drew a quick breath—“yeah, that one—makes me desperate to bury myself inside you so I can hear it again and again.”

His words were enough to have me writhing beneath him. “Pax, I want you,” I said, knowing he loved the words.

“And I want you,” he promised, kissing me gently while rocking against my core, sending another shock of electricity through me, winding that spiral in my belly tighter. “But you need to know that I don’t need to remember you, Leah. Not when I have zero intention of ever letting you go.”

His mouth conquered mine, wiping away my doubt, my insecurities. He was mine now, and that was enough. He broke the kiss only to slide down my body, bending my knees to spread my legs wider. “Now turn off that beautiful brain of yours, Firecracker, and just feel.”