‘All of it, Jensen.’
With an impatient tug, he freed the length from the simple elastic band. My breath caught as the heavy mass fell over one shoulder. With movements that were perfunctory rather than exhibitionist, he dragged his fingers through the thick strands, tossing them off his neck. They fell well below his shoulders. And while I wasn’t into the whole man-bun craze, I couldn’t deny there was something wildly sexy about a guy with the confidence to wear his hair this long.
Eyes darkened with arousal raked over my body again, unfettered lust parting his lips. ‘What do you want, min elskerinde?’
‘For you to finish undressing me,’ I instructed.
He fell on me, callused fingers grazing my skin as he reached behind me to unclasp my bra. At the first sight of my breasts, he groaned. ‘God, you’re so fucking sexy.’
I arched my back, silently inviting him to touch.
He touched. Squeezed and caressed me until he dragged a moan from my throat. The thought of the frozen tundra right outside the tent and the sizzling effect of his hands on me was one of the headiest encounters I’d experienced.
I wanted more of it.
As if he’d read my mind, his hands tiptoed down my ribs, leaving a trail goosebumps, to catch and drag my panties down my legs.
In the dim light, I saw a flush stain his chiselled cheekbones. It was a unique enough reaction to elevate me from mere lust to...something else. Something that was exclusively mine.
Something that didn’t remind me of my uncanny resemblance to my mother, a fact many chose to comment on, either with reverence or with cruelty. While these days I’d stopped reading the tabloids, I’d once spent a useless, soul-shrivelling month scouring newspapers and magazines for mentions of my name that didn’t involve my mother. Not a single one had been entirely about me. Because of course I wasn’t my own person. I was a churned-out product, a means to an end dictated by a few lines scrawled in a centuries-old trust, discarded at the very first opportunity.
If only I could look into the mirror and not see the exact replica of just who had done the discarding—
Callused hands tightened on my inner thighs, dragging me back to the present. To the man who crouched before me, his eyes fixed on me with complete, unwavering focus. ‘I feel as if I’m losing you,’ Jensen said, a displeased little light in his eyes that absurdly thrilled me. The idea that a man who barely knew me would fight for my attention, when my own mother had—
Dear God, enough already!
‘Well, you’ve got my clothes off. Now what do you want to do?’ I asked, momentarily content to let him make the decision. I was merely loosening the reins, not handing them over.
He swallowed, his gaze darting from my breasts to my pelvis, hunger etched deeper on his face. His grip grew even firmer, subtly nudging my thighs apart. I was shamelessly wet, could feel the hot dampness in the cool air.
‘I want to taste you. Devour you. Make you come,’ he said.
Breath hitching, I spread my thighs wider. ‘Then we’re in accord, Jensen, because I want the same thing.’
With a rough grunt, he lurched forward, wrapped both hands around my breasts and sucked a nipple between his lips. Expertly, he rolled the hard nub between his teeth, nipping and sucking until my back arched clear off the sleeping bag. He showered attention on the twin peak, then utilised his hot and skilful mouth on a trail south.
Jensen didn’t tease and titillate his way into a slow build-up. He wanted to devour me, and that was exactly what he did.
With a full-on, dirty French kiss, he launched a spine-melting assault on my sex, tasting and licking with unashamed pleasure that made me gasp in shock.
‘You taste so good,’ he growled, his gaze rising to clash with mine for a second before it dropped to my sex. Minutes ticked by, the only sound in the tent the decadent acoustics of wet, aroused flesh and pleasured moans.
Then his fingers parted me wider, exposing my engorged clit to the wicked assault of his tongue. Pleasure piled high, drawing wild tremors through me. Like a freight train, my climax bore down on me. Relishing the added friction of his stubble against my thighs, I gathered the long strands of his hair in one hand, the other cupping my breast to squeeze a nipple as I prepared to surrender to rabid lust.
It arrived in flashes of wild lightning, jerking my hips in hard spasms. Jensen’s hand slipped beneath me, effortlessly holding me up as he continued to taste my climax. When it all grew too much, I tightened my grip in his hair.
With endearing reluctance, he diverted his attention from between my legs, dropped kisses down the length of my inner thighs before prowling his way up my body.
The decadent kiss tasted of my musky satisfaction. Eventually, he drew away, and I saw the building tension on his face.
I forced myself not to tense in response, despite the less than euphoric sensation moving through my stomach at the thought that he already regretted what had happened. ‘If you’re annoyed by the lack of accolades, I’d say give me a chance to catch my breath, then I’ll—’
A sharp shake of his head halted my words. ‘It’s nothing like that.’
‘Okay.’ I waited.
His gaze rushed over me, as if he couldn’t help himself. And call me vain, but it eased my tension a little.
‘I’m not sure how far you want this to go...’ he paused, jaw gritted, as if he didn’t want to say the words ‘...but I don’t have a condom.’
I froze, mildly stunned that the need for protection hadn’t occurred to me. While I was on the Pill, and fairly certain pregnancy wouldn’t be an issue, I’d never not used the extra layer of protection. The last thing I needed with my various
