He didn’t scowl or try to pressure me. He just smiled that grin that I knew would melt the panties off a nun, then sat on the bed and pulled me to stand between his legs.
“I want you, Rosie. I want to strip this towel off you and study your body. I want to run my tongue over every tattoo you have hidden under the clothes you wear.”
My eyes closed at the idea of giving myself to him. His words, while dirty, were also a caress.
He wanted me.
I wanted to surrender to him. Let him have me completely, but at what cost? His lips tracked a path from my neck to mybare shoulder, while his hands rested on my ass. He squeezed my cheeks but never lifted the towel.
Maybe I could hold him off. Maybe I could straddle him and keep his hands from wandering. On the mountain, he took me from behind. I just needed to keep his hands from roaming.
“Lie back,” I commanded. The scars were hidden. As long as he didn’t touch, he would never know they were there. When he didn’t move, I stepped back and pulled the towel from my body.
“Jesus Christ.”
His whispered curse electrified me. His eyes roamed over me, taking me in. When they lingered a little too long on the vine tattoo, I laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back, before crawling over him.
I sat on his legs and reached for his belt. When his hands reached for my hips, I grabbed them. Pushing them over his head to rest on the bed, my mind was focused on keeping his hands off me. I hadn’t given much thought to the way my body would hover over his.
His head lifted and sucked a nipple into his mouth with a groan.
“Fuck,” I cursed. He moved faster than I gave him credit for and a moment later, he had me under him on the bed. My own hands locked above my head the way I’d tried to lock his. He held me there as he hovered over me, looking into my eyes for any protest.
I was weak when it came to this man. I wrapped my legs around his hips and lifted against him. His mouth latched on to my nipple once again and he sucked, causing my back to arch into him.
My fears and insecurities were quickly forgotten as he plunged two fingers into my soaking wet pussy.
“Jesus, Rose, you’re so fucking wet.” His lips trailed over my rib cage. I was lost in the feeling of his mouth on my skin. Hisfingers in my cunt. When he pulled back, he reached for my knees and opened me up to him. He leaned down and his tongue swiped through the wetness, lapping it up like he was starving.
But when his hands slid down my thighs from my knees, I suddenly remembered why I hadn’t wanted to give in.
Chapter Thirty
Cash
When Rose dropped the towel and I saw her for the first time, with nothing on to hinder my view, my brain short-circuited. My eyes didn’t know where to look first. Her perky tits, her slim waist. Her perfect fucking pussy that was hiding under a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair. I was in sensory overload when she pushed me back and climbed over me.
It was why I let her take control. I wasn’t thinking straight. She wanted the control, and I tried to let her have it. She was skittish when it came to sex, and I chalked it up to inexperience. After all, she’d only turned twenty-one the day before.
But when she leaned over me to push my hands above my head, and her juicy tit hung right in front of my fucking mouth, I lost my mind. What else could I do? I stuck my tongue out and flicked her nipple before sucking it between my lips. And when I got a taste of her, I reacted like any other grown man that wanted to fuck his woman.
I flipped us over and looked into her eyes. I waited for the protest, for the fear to show in her face. All I saw was a hunger that no doubt matched my own. And when she wrapped her legs around my waist and lifted her hips against my straining cock, I pulled her nipple back into my mouth and lapped at it.
Her back arched up, encouraging me on. I trailed my lips over her rib cage. I wanted to taste her cunt. Not the result of her orgasm on my fingers the way I did on the mountain. No. I wanted it all.
The feel of her smooth skin as my tongue slid against it. I wanted to flick at her clit until she was writhing beneath me and then fuck her with my tongue.
My fingers found her pussy, and I plunged them into her. “Jesus, Rose, You’re so fucking wet.”
I looked at her face as I slid down the bed. Her expression of pure rapture spurred me on, and I grabbed her knees forcing her wide open to my lust-filled gaze.
She was fucking gorgeous. Pink and wet. Exactly what I was looking for. I snaked my tongue from her ass to her clit, but I wanted more.
My hands slid down her thighs, and I stopped. I pulled back as my hands caressed her skin; I expected the slight feel of raised skin from the tattoos. Her legs were covered in them. What I didn’t expect was the calloused lines hidden beneath.
“What the fuck?”
Her eyes snapped open and the ecstasy I’d seen was quickly replaced with fear and panic. She scrambled back on the bed, tugging at the blanket beneath her.
