Page 105 of Tracked
Fuck everything.
My mouth landed savagely back on hers, kissing her like I wanted to leave a mark. Like I wanted to leave tracks over her lips and skin so I could find my way back to this moment again and again and again.
Her pleas became a heady chant of moans in my ear as my teeth and tongue roamed and ravaged their way to the side of her neck. I’d just gotten a taste of the intoxicating glug of her pulse when I felt her fingers at the waist of my jeans.
She’d given up on my shirt. Everything was too wet to remove easily. Or quickly. And her frustration had become audible.
“Please, Calder.”
I straightened and brushed her hand aside, my gaze roaming over her. Every inch of her was soaked. Her hair. Her eyelashes. Her shirt. My cock throbbed when I saw the peaks of her nipples, hard and begging, outlined in the wet fabric.
Goddamn, she was perfect.Fire drenched in rain and want. Her hair streaked like lava over her shoulders. Her nipples pebbled tight on her rapidly moving chest, raindrops falling off the tight tips every time she let out a shuddering exhale.
Sliding my utility knife from my pocket, the blade streaked open like a flash of lightning. Lara’s gaze dropped, as I ordered, “Turn around. Hands on the Airstream.”
Her pupils blew wide for a split second, but she obeyed wordlessly.Wantonly.As soon as her palms were flat against the metal, she widened her stance, presenting me with her perfect ass.
“The things you do to me ...” I trailed off and palmed one globe, satisfied when I heard a husky moan escape her throat.
God, I should take this slower. Strip her. Taste her. Get on my knees and bury my tongue in her pussy—
“Stop thinking and fuck me, Wild Man.” Her breathy order injected another measure of lust in my veins, as if I wasn’t already overdosing.
With a growl, I grabbed the waist of her jeans. “Wild or not, there is still one rule for you out here. That hasn’t changed.” Desire flushed over her skin. “Tell me what it is.”
She hummed and whimpered, “Obey.”
“Obey who?” I tightened my grip and flexed my hips against her ass.
“Obey you.”
“Obey me when?”
She tried to move against me again, her desperation turning me on just as much as what she repeated: “Obey you when we’re in the wilderness.”
“That’s right,” I cooed and then rumbled low, “Now, stay still.”
With a hard yank, I jerked her ass back so she was bent forward and stabilized by the RV. Shoving her shirt up, I pressed the flat of my knife to her skin, watching her body shudder just as much as I felt it.
“Fuck, Calder . . .”
“Still,” I reminded her roughly and slid the knife lower, hooking the tip under the waist of her jeans. Angling the blade, I cut the seam that went straight down the curve of her ass in a single motion, the fabric gaping to show me her black thong.
Two swift cuts and I severed that, too.
“Does that make you wet? When I cut your clothes off to fuck you?”
“God, yes.” Her head hung as I sheathed my knife and returned it to my back pocket. The whole time I stared at her, watched her shift her weight, trying to ease her ache.
“And how about this?” I wound the string of her thong around my fingers and reeled it slowly from between her thighs, hearing her choked breaths as the fabric rubbed right along her clit as I pulled it free. “You don’t have to answer. I can see it does.”
The only piece of clothing that wasn’t soaked from the rain was soaked with something else as I balled it in my fingers, desire clawing at the inside of my chest.
“Calder—”
“Spread your legs wider,” I interrupted, dropping the fabric into the mud and reaching for the zipper of my jeans. “Show me just how wild you want me.”
She almost slipped with how fast she moved, and I grabbed her waist, steadying her.
