Page 102 of Stolen By the Billionaire
With a rush, Blaze pressed her against the car and took her mouth with his.
His attack shoved her backward, cramming her between the cold metal of the car and the strength of his body. The last few days of terror, relief, and attraction cycling through her mind snapped off like a TV.
His lips sucking at hers, his tongue invading her mouth and then caressing, his fingers tightening in her hair at the base of her skull and turning her head so he could rake his teeth over her throat, and his other hand tracing the shape of her curves and then grasping her bottom roared in her head.
Heat poured through his clothes, warming her through her jeans and tee shirt.
She held onto his waist because her legs wobbled like a tornado was howling around her, trying to drag her into the sky.
His breath was hot on her throat, and he muscled her by her hair, tilting her head to suck and nip the top of her shoulder where he’d pulled the neck of her tee shirt aside.
Sarah gasped, “What if someone comes in and sees us?”
“House, lock the door from the garage,” Blaze growled.
Beep.
His hand swept up her ribs, and he ran his thumb under her breast and then over her nipple that was still tender from the knots in the ropes.
A pang of desire shot through her, a soprano note above the cacophony of wanting. She gasped air, lest she drown in her desperation.
His knee drove between her legs, parting them, and she was astride his burly thigh.
The seam of her jeans rode between her folds, rubbing her, irritating the point of sensation there. Her body writhed against him, yearning for more.
His hand left her breast, and his fingers drew a line down her stomach to the fly of her jeans. With a flick of his fingertips and a zip downward, he moved his leg and was shoving her jeans down her thighs.
The garage whipped around her head, his hands and his mouth everywhere on her. Her legs began to collapse, and she slammed her hands backward against his car for balance.
Blaze bent for an instant, jamming her jeans and panties down around her ankles. She was bare from the waist down, and the cold metal of the car door chilled her naked bottom.
He stood and pressed his body against hers, another crush against the car that made her weaker, and his hand between them slipped within her folds between her legs.
A bolt of pleasure flashed through her. Her body contracted inside, and she stretched against it, her arms curling up so that her fists were at her shoulders and her body arching onto his hand.
“You’re ready for me,” he growled in her ear. “Good girl.”
And he rubbed the pads of his fingers over that bright point of insanity between her legs.
She gasped harder that time, a keen escaping her lips after it.
“You’re going to come, aren’t you?” his voice rumbled in her ear, but her mind whirled the words away. “Fuck this. I want you to come in my mouth.”
He stepped back. Sarah almost fell forward into the cold air, hobbled by her jeans and panties around her ankles.
Blaze shoved his hands under her armpits and lifted her, not even giving her a chance to jump to help him, and he raised her over his head and planted her bottom on the cool metal roof of his car. “Oh!”
This was—they weren’t lined up right. She knew this couldn’t be how you were supposed to do sex.
“Lie back,” he snarled as he bent, pushing with his hands on her calves and pressing her knees toward her chest.
Sarah curled backward, spreading her arms over the chilly metal to stabilize herself as Blaze folded her legs, curling her into a ball on the car roof. Above her, the boxy mechanism that lifted the garage door was suspended from the ceiling with steel rods.
“Hold your legs,” he ordered.
She grabbed her knees with one arm while he ducked, rolling her farther backward and lifting her hips with both hands so he could—
His mouth sealed over the sensitive place between her legs, and his tongue pressed into her folds.
