Page 39 of Fire Away


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He must be on the same page, or extremely committed to making sure that our public kiss at the event coming up is sensational. That’s probably no longer on his mind though, because I doubt we’ll be dry humping in public any time soon.

He leans back and pulls me with him, our bodies glued together from our mouths to our chests to our waists. Waves of almost unbearable heat are building in my core and I do absolutely nothing to put out the fire.

I could stop myself if I wanted to. I know this. But I can’t seem to find a single fuck to give at the moment.

The growling coming from the back of his throat isn’t helping either. My hips take the sound as encouragement, grinding down harder in a desperate search for more.

The way he responds each time with a kiss or moan or the movement of his hips tells me that he wants me. This man, who goes out of his way to spend time with me, listen to me, help meany time that I’ve asked him to . . .wantsme. And that right there is enough for me to sayfuck my protective walls.

Right now? I want him too.

And I want his damn shirt off. Mental images of seeing him without it on aren’t enough anymore. When I lift the hem of it up and clumsily tug it over his head, I only get a chance to admire what’s finally in front of me for a second before his mouth moves to mine again.

He tugs at my bottom lip first, then travels back to the spot on my neck just underneath my ear. I arch into him, unable to fight the addictive rush of tingles every time he plants those open-mouthed kisses over my skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he growls as both of his hands move up my thighs, pushing up the hem of my dress. He pauses right before he reaches the apex, waiting for me to take him up on his offer to put this to an end if I wanted to.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

His rugged hands dig deep into my skin and I gasp from the mix of pain and blinding pleasure. Like they have a mind of their own, my hips tilt forward, begging for contact.

Without warning, the pad of his thumb meets the center of my opening through the thin material of my thong, which I know for a fact is already soaking wet. For some reason, it doesn’t embarrass me like it normally would. The thought of him feeling the evidence of what he’s doing to me is thrilling and erotic.

He presses firmly and moves his thumb up until it swipes right over my clit. I gasp for air and claw at the back of his neck.

“Warren. You’re gonna make me come,” I moan.

I’ve never been so close to the edge this quickly before. And I’ve never been so forthcoming with my words. Smothering my thoughts in anticipation of someone not liking what I have to say is usually more my speed. This time, with how safe I feelagainst his body and pleasure coursing through me, my typical reluctance is nonexistent.

He fists the back of my hair to bring my mouth back to his, diving his tongue in to devour me while the relentless pressure of his thumb threatens to end me within the next minute.

My head falls forward and I practically cry into the side of his neck when he finally pulls my underwear to the side and his callused fingers dip down to my core.

“Yesright—there.”

Just as his middle two fingers tease at my entrance and my legs begin to shake, he yanks his hand out.

“What—” I breathe out in shock.

“I want to see,” he growls.

In a matter of seconds, my dress is flung over my head and tossed to the floor. My back hits the couch and I don’t even have time to lift my hips for him before my thong is yanked down my legs. Everything feels like a blur, so I could be mistaken, but I could have sworn he stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans.

With one hand, he slides his hand behind my back. I lift off the couch slightly to give him room, and he snaps open the clasp of my bra with one twist of his fingers. As soon as he grabs it and flings it over the back of the couch, he stares down at me with a flexed jaw. The air conditioning vent that’s right above us hits my nipples and they harden instantly under his gaze.

His eyes close momentarily, sucking a deep breath through his nose, and I arch off the couch expecting him to give attention to my exposed breasts first.

But he proves too impatient for that.

I wasn’t prepared for him to lay down at my feet, hook his arms around my thighs, and haul me toward him with such force. He’s not usually so commanding. But I’m beginning to think in situations like this, Warren doesn’t understand theconcept of slow and steady or delicate and tender. And I amnotcomplaining.

“Last chance,” his deep voice vibrates inches away from my pulsing clit. “Tell. Me. To. Stop.”

I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I stare down at him—all broad shoulders and messy pushed-back hair. I’m panting through my nose and not voicing a single word of protest.

Without breaking eye contact, his mouth opens and he drops his chin. The moment he latches on to my clit and pulls it into his mouth in one ruthless suck, my head falls back and my eyes slam shut.

“Fucking hell, Warren.”