Brea swallowed. This was happening. This was real. Pierce Walker was about to lay eyes on her naked breasts.
He let go. Her bra fell away.
His black eyes fastened on her, firmly affixing to her nipples. They drew up even tighter under his scrutiny, the tips so engorged they throbbed. “Fucking gorgeous.”
His words made Brea blush. But she wanted more than his praise; she wanted relief from this endless ache.
She wound her arms around his neck and arched, flattening herself against his muscled torso. The jolt of his skin directly on hers was electric. She gasped at the new, foreign sensations.
“You feel so damn good,” he groaned.
“You feel better.”
But the skin-to-skin contact wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She wriggled again, needing something more.
Pierce eased away, gaze fastened on her breasts again, as his fingers crept up her torso. “Tell me to touch them.”
“Please.” She prayed that would end her torment. “Touch them now.”
She hadn’t even finished speaking before he had her breasts in his scorching palms. He cradled them, testing their weight, squeezing. Then he swept the sensitive crests with his thumbs.
Tingles spread throughout her body. She hissed in pleasure and arched closer to Pierce, shoving herself deeper into his grip—and under his spell—silently begging for more.
“Like that?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Want more?”
“Please.” His touch made her need more insistent.
She feared only one thing would end it.
With a devilish smile, he flicked his thumbs across her nipples, bending the peaks—and her—to his will. Heat flared from the tops of her breasts to the tips of her toes, then zipped between her legs, twisting into a greedy, destructive inferno.
“I want your nipples on my tongue. Tell me to suck them.”
His suggestion made her flare even hotter. And if he took her breasts in his mouth, he’d only destroy her that much faster.
Brea couldn’t bring herself to care anymore.
“Yes.” She clawed at him. “Please.”
He skimmed his knuckles along the side of one of her mounds, back and forth, moving ever closer to her aching peak. “Please what?”
She knew why he kept prompting her with these questions, but she wished he’d stop. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to consider every step down this road paved with lust and sin. But he was determined that she not only allow him to join her but invite him down the path of ruination with her.
“Please suck my nipples, then take off my shorts and lead me upstairs. Do whatever will make this ache go away. I need it. I need you. I consent.”
Shock pinged through One-Mile. He’d fantasized. He’d hoped. But he hadn’t truly believed Brea Bell would agree to let him spend the night inside her. “You’re sure?”
“You can end this agony, right?”
“You bet I can, pretty girl.” But given the chemistry between them, he had a sneaking suspicion the ache would only come back stronger, over and over again.
In fact, he was betting on it.
“Then yes,” she groaned as she tried to wriggle off the table. “Hurry.”
He would because he was dying to be inside her, but no fucking way would he let her go until they were both thoroughly satisfied. And maybe not even then.
One-Mile crowded her back onto the flat surface, then scooped her pert little ass in his hands again, crushing her against every hot inch of his body. Then he laid her out and swooped in for another unrestrained kiss. Just like the first time he tasted her, the instant her honey-sweet flavor hit his tongue, she ramped up his hunger.
He dove deep into her mouth, driven by the need to take all she gave. Brea melted, arms around his neck, drawing him closer as she writhed artlessly beneath him. He rocked against her, grinding where he ached to penetrate her.
His desire for her became a searing, infinite need. One-Mile ate at her mouth, hell-bent on imprinting himself on Brea Bell forever. He tried to slow his roll, not overwhelm her. Hell, he tried to let her breathe.
Not happening. Her every touch and little whimper only jacked him up more.
He jerked back, chest heaving as he sucked in air. Beneath him, Brea looked stunned and blinking, her rosy, swollen lips gaping in surprise. He had put that look on her face, and it made One-Mile harder than he’d ever been. He gripped her thighs and tried like hell to think. Because if he didn’t find some goddamn self-control, he’d strip her where she lay and fuck her until she screamed.
“Do you need to tell anyone you’ll be unavailable for a while?” The last fucking thing he wanted was to be interrupted, especially by annoying-as-fuck Bryant.
“No,” she breathed. “My dad is playing cards tonight with friends. I doubt the hospital will release Cutter before morning. But I’ll turn it off just in case.”
The hitch and shiver in her voice torqued up his arousal.
“Do that.”
“You have to let me up.”
Reluctantly, he did, never taking his rapt gaze off of her as she pulled the device from her purse. She checked it…then silenced it.
Finally, she was his…at least for the night.
And the fact that she would rather spend it getting orgasms from him instead of holding her convalescing boyfriend’s hand said that, while parts of her heart might still be with Cutter, the rest of her wanted only him.
One-Mile could work with that. He had every intention of blowing Brea’s doors off in bed. Given her good-girl mentality, he’d bet Cutter had been her first—and only—lover. He hated that she’d given her innocence to the prick, but he would happily provide her a point of comparison. And since Brea was the sort of woman whose body followed her heart, if he did this right, she would soon be waving adios to the bastard for good.
When she swayed toward him again, he dragged her against his body and lifted her. “Wrap your arms and legs around me.”
She didn’t hesitate to sling her thighs around his hips and grip his shoulders, then squirm to get closer. He groaned. Goddamn it, despite how tiny
