He whispered urgently against her lips, “Feel what?”
She fisted her fingers in his hair, tugging his head back until his eyes met hers in the amber twilight. “Everything.”
With a whispered oath and a snap of control, he let her feet hit the floor, then turned her, crowding her into the table, his body curling over hers to seal the fit. He ravaged her neck, her shoulder—teeth and tongue—his hands capturing her breasts, cupping, squeezing her nipples until she cried out.
She. Could. Not. Think.
Flashes of sensation, images of him towering over, thrusting,coming, rushed her mind. Her need was raw, desire stripping away layers until she stood before him, half-naked, humbled, overwhelmed. Bracing her hands on the table, she curled her fingers over the edge and ground againsthis cock.
Chest hitching, he gulped a terse breath, his cheek falling to the nape of her neck. “I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.Anything.”
“Ditto, Atlanta,” she gasped, hanging her head.
With a groan, Campbell grasped her chin, his lips capturing hers in a side-swipe kiss. His hand drifted between her legs, working her zipper down just enough to slip inside. “This is where I plan to feast tonight, my mouth draining you dry,” he whispered, his finger stroking, thrusting as his thumb found her clit.
It didn’t take long, seconds before she exploded, breathless, clinging to the table as her mouth dropped from his.
“More is coming.” The vow rushed past her ear. “It’s your call. Stop me now, if that was enough.”
A promise and a warning.
Glancing over her shoulder, she let out a shaky breath. “I'm not about...to stop you.”
With an urgent catch of her arm, he propelled her into the shrouded enclosure by the door, pausing only long enough to draw the curtains around them.
“Light-tight,” she murmured, the two words scraping out like glass dragged across cement.
“Exactly,” he returned, drawing her against him as he stepped into the hallway.
They moved in a tangled spiral down the hallway, kissing with every turn, bumping into the walls in a heated stumble. Somewhere along the way—two feet or twenty—he found a door, flung it open, and guided her inside.
She caught sight of cameras, lenses, photos covering every available inch of real estate.
A man’s space.Hisspace.
Which she’d asked to invade. And he’d let her.
She started toward the bed, but he laughed and tugged her back, spinning her around and pressing her against the door. “The frame whines like a bitch.” His hot, golden gaze found hers, the sensual promise from moments ago still burning in his eyes. “I’m going to fuck you right here. Quietly, but until your knees won’t hold you up another second. Until you can’t remember whatmonthit is. Press your cries into my skin when you come. Every time.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Hear me, Quinn?”
She could only nod as he dropped to one knee and slid her jeans down her legs. Looking up as he eased her panties free, he smiled, lifting the lace to his nose. “Pink. About my favorite thing in the world. Thanks, Jaime.”
Then he parted her legs, hooking one over his shoulder as he made good on his promise.
He feasted.
His mouth covered her, his tongue tracing her lips, and diving inside. Her head fell back, eyes closing to the sight of him kneeling before her.
The only choice if she didn’t want to orgasm again—rightnow.
She thought of other things. The ailing rose bush on Mrs. Simmons property, the retaining wall Jaime was preparing a quote for. All the while, Campbell toyed with her, his tongue slicking her seam, his finger teasing before finding its way inside her. His lips circling her clit and sucking.
When she was close, helpless, her hands tangled in his hair, he hesitated, his breath a hot wash over her. “Do you want to come with my finger or my cock inside you?” Leaning, he tasted her once more, sending a blinding, misty rush across her vision. “Or both?”
“Cock,” she whispered, “for now.”
“Done.” He rose, and while she watched, dragged his jeans down his legs. No underwear, a surprise. His cock sprang free, and she reached, her fingers circling. She loved the feel of him in her hand. “I’ll spill in seconds if you do that, Hellcat. Hangon.” Crossing the room, he opened a drawer, dug around, and came out with a condom packet, tearing it open with his teeth.
Rolling it on as he returned, he caught her wrists and guided her arms around his neck. “Hang on.” Then he lifted her, and the rest came naturally for someone who’d never fucked against a door. Her legs locked around his waist, his hands bracing beneath her, positioning as he slid inside. Gradually, until they were hip to hip.
