“Guess what?” His face is almost touching mine. “I still think that.”
“That just proves my point.” I inhale the scent of his sun-kissed skin. It’s so close to my nose. His presence is so demanding. “You deserved that salt in your coffee.”
“And that scorching hot liquid on my cock?” he half whispers, half hisses.
I lick my lips. “That too.”
“And the fire?”
“I wish I was the reason for that.” I push my nose to his. “I regret not doing it earlier.” I’m pouring all the hatred and desperation and regret from the past few years of my life into these words. “You and your narcissistic brain deserve it.”
I want to dig my fingers into his face. Scratch his skin with my nails. He’s the center and example of everything I’ve run away from. Everything I’ve detested. Everything I used to be.
He groans with so much resignation and desperation that I’m not sure how this situation is a good thing. But I don’t have time to think about it because he smacks his mouth on mine.
“You.” A kiss. “Drive.” A kiss. “Me.” A careful nib. “Insane.” A bite.
I gasp for air because I wasn’t ready for this sensual assault, but he doesn’t let me breathe. He deepens the kiss and moves his body a little to the side, so he leans his weight on his left arm while his right one gets free rein of my body.
He slows down for a moment and pulls his head away. His crazed eyes are darting between mine. His chest is touching mine with every inhale. His neck moves with a slow, deliberate swallow like he’s giving himself time to think. And me. He’s giving me time to think.
My heart is racing, pounding against my chest. Its frantic drumbeat echoes in the silence between us. Or is it his heart?
A bead of sweat forms on his temple and runs down his cheek and onto his nose. His eyes dip to my mouth and he feverishly licks his lips. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s having a pretty rough time controlling himself. So much fornot getting to know each other.
I lift my finger to touch his lower lip, and he instantly sucks it into his mouth. My own falls open from the unexpected gesture. He starts swirling his tongue over the tip ofmy finger, and I feel those movements on my clit. It’s like my finger is connected to my private parts with one long, currently super-electrified nerve.
The tension in the air is so thick I practically can grab a handful of it.
I bring my free hand to his hair and gently thread my fingers through it, raking his scalp with my nails. His body shudders on top of mine, sending this electric current into me. I move my hand to the back of his head and pull him toward me.
His hesitation vanishes with my dignity on this island. Releasing my finger from his mouth, he shifts his body completely atop mine and leans on his outstretched arms. His thick, corded forearms end up on either side of my face, and this is the best foreplay I need. I’ve always been a fan of arm porn, and Ezra looks like he is its daddy. Sometime during the night, he took his jacket off and covered me with it, so now I’m gifted with all his almost-naked glory.
And I’m not going to let it go to waste. My newly freed hand lands on his chest and starts greedily exploring all his pronounced muscles. I can’t even control the thirsty hussy I’ve become because it’s moving like a maniac on its own, dipping into every single curve of the little grooves of his body.
Including ones on his stomach area. And then lower. I can’t stop at this point. I’m curious and released from the bounds of morality.
Once my fingers graze over the lower part of his body, I feel the muscles jerking under my touch. It makes me brave, so I let my finger gently brush the skin right under the band of his boxers.
His head falls between my shoulder and my head with a rough chuckle.
“You’re enjoying it too much.” His voice is breathless as he hides his face in my hair.
“So are you.”
Another painful cackle while my hand continues drawing careful lines over his skin. The muscles keep jerking. At some point, his whole lower part gives a forward thrust, and now I chuckle.
“Impatient, are we?” I breathe out into his ear.
“Little witch.”
In a second, the power shifts. He grabs both my wrists and secures them on top of my head with one of his hands. The other one lands on my throat, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt our size differences more than at this point. His hand totally covers my throat and then some.
I swallow instinctively under his touch, and he feels it. His gaze dips to my throat for a moment before returning to my eyes while he puts a little pressure on it.
“I love control, Maeve,” he whispers to me. “Everywhere.”
He finds my eyes to make sure I understand. I do. I think. I’ve never dated a super dominant person, and Ezra seems like he can be a lot. Especially, with how truly large he is.
