Page 7 of Beautiful Killer

He didn’t answer, it wasn’t a question.

“I’d like to kiss you, but I can’t reach your mouth,” I said, my face heating.

He turned away from me, wide chest expanding sharply, and for a moment I thought he might leave, but he didn’t, he walked to the couch, sat down on it, leaned back, and waited. He was going to let me take the lead. The achy pulse between my thighs intensified and I squeezed my legs together. I may be out of practice, but there was no reason to hesitate. That was the beauty of a one-night stand, right? Not that I’d ever had one before, but that’s what I was telling myself. I approached him like the wild creature he was. Suddenly not sure if he’d pounce or bolt. He did neither. He watched me, scorching me with all that heat burning from him. I leaned forward, resting my hands on his shoulders then climbed into his lap, straddling his hips. My heart was pounding so hard, I struggled to breathe. He felt amazing. All hard, brutal strength.

His arms moved to give me room when I climbed on and were now along the back of the couch, still not touching me. I curled my fingers around the side of his neck, my breath coming in shallow pants as I leaned in, desperate to taste him, the wildness of him . . .

Then my lips were against his. The muscles in his chest tightened against mine as I move my mouth over his. His lips were as firm as the rest of him. For a moment, he wasn’t kissing me back, and I thought he wasn’t going to . . . then he made another of those rough sounds and leaned in, pushing back. I opened my mouth on a moan. At the touch of his tongue against mine, my body went up in a ball of molten flames. I pressed closer, curling my arms around his neck, my breasts pressing tighter, rubbing against him.

His hands still weren’t on me and I needed them. Now. If it wasn’t for the very obvious bulge I could feel through his jeans and the hungry way he was kissing me back, I might start to worry that he didn’t want me. But there was and he was. I tore my mouth away from his, sliding my hand up the side of his throat, to the back if his head, fisting his hair lightly. “Zeke . . . please, will you touch me?”

One of his hands instantly lifted from the back of the couch and thrust into my hair at my nape, the other went to the side of my ass, like he’d been waiting for my permission all this time. I expected him to pull me back in for another kiss, but he didn’t. His eyes slid over my face, my hair, down to my neck then back up. The way he looked at me . . . I felt beautiful in a way I never had in my life. I smiled, I couldn’t help it. He stared at my mouth as I did then made a low, long sound, and with all that sexy roughness he had going on, it made me think of a purring jungle cat. His fingers tightened in my hair and he pulled me closer, again not going for my mouth. Instead he buried his face against my shoulder then dragged his nose up the side of my neck, mouth stopping at my ear. “You smell like vanilla,” he said, voice gruff.

My nipples tightened even more, started tingling almost painfully, and goose bumps broke out across my skin. This man . . . good lord. He was raw, intense, wild . . . beautiful. And I got the feeling what was about to happen between us was going to be the same. Maybe it was silly, but I knew whatever happened tonight would be life altering for me. That should scare me, but right then, it didn’t. Because this man, this stranger, made me feel safe, precious, wanted like I never had before—in a way I never had before.

He needed me as much as I needed him tonight. I didn’t know how I knew that, I just did.

I waited to see what he’d do next, then I felt those rough hands move to my hips, up until his thumbs slid under my shirt, brushed against my bare skin. A needy moan slipped out, just from that feel of his skin against mine. Then he was fisting my shirt and dragging it up, pulling it off, flinging it aside. His hands dropped back to my waist, and his hungry stare followed them. I sucked in a sharp breath, his palms and fingertips like fine sandpaper, and so hot, as they moved higher, up to my ribs until his thumbs grazed the undersides of my breasts.

My breathing was erratic as his eyes lifted to mine, as he cupped one in his large hand, and applied pressure. His thumb came back into play, sliding, grazing my aching nipple. I was panting as I reached back and unclasped my bra, and his own breathing quickened as well as I dragged it down my arms and bared myself to him. The way he looked at me, it stole my breath.

His fingers dug into my ribs. “Room?”

I blinked down at him, trying to unscramble my brain.

“Room, Sunshine. Now.”

Sunshine.

There went my belly again. Flipping and whooshing and . . .

He tightened his hands again and lifted me off his lap, obviously getting impatient.

I snapped out of my daze—well kind of—took his hand and led him upstairs to my room. I wanted him in my bed, too. I wanted to be able to press my nose to my sheets tomorrow night and smell him there when this was all over. Was that weird? Probably. I didn’t care.

We were at my bedroom door and I turned, walking backward toward the bed. He released my hand and reached back, dragging his shirt off . . .

Holy . . . wow.

I sucked in a sharp breath. There was barely an ounce of fat on him, he was strength and sinew and raw muscle. His abdominal muscles were defined, the V at his hips arrowing down, disappearing beneath his low-slung jeans. His skin was marked with scars, one on his stomach that looked fairly recent.

Zeke was dangerous.

Maybe that should concern me. It didn’t. It turned me on more. Nothing mattered right then but having him inside me.

I unzipped my boots and kicked them aside, then my jeans and pushed them down. He watched me the whole time. Until I stood in only my panties and jewelry. He didn’t wait for me to ask this time, he prowled toward me, lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing, which I did not, then dropped me on the bed, coming down on top of me. And when his mouth came down on mine, there was a desperation to it, like he wanted everything, would take everything, because after tonight we’d go our separate ways and he didn’t want to miss one damn thing. I felt the same way. He knew as well as I that there was something profound between us, but despite that, it didn’t change anything, it couldn’t.

We both had our reasons for only wanting one night, and that was okay.

Then I stopped thinking because he slid my panties down my legs. My hands were on his back, digging into hard muscle, sliding higher, over his broad shoulders as he moved down my body. Strong hands gripped my inner thighs and he spread me wide, exposing me, then his mouth was there. I arched, crying out as he dragged his tongue through the center of me, lips wrapping around my clit before he was back to licking and sucking, making me jolt every time he dragged his tongue back up, giving me another one of those light sucks, or tugging gently with his lips. My hands found their way to his hair and I fisted, probably harder than I should, but I couldn’t stop myself. He didn’t seem to mind, which was a good thing, since I was mindless by this point. One of his hands came up my side, over my belly, and curled around my breast while he worked me, kneading, tormenting my nipple with just the right amount of pressure.

I felt it building, rushing up on me, and I automatically tried to jam my thighs shut. His scruff grazed my inner thighs and his hand left my breast and wrapped around my thigh holding me like that, tight against his face. His tongue started flicking relentlessly over my clit and my back bowed. He growled against me. That did it. I ground up against him, holding his head to me, while I cried out, moaning through the best orgasm I’d ever experienced.

When the last wave of pleasure rolled through me, I collapsed back, my legs falling open as he slid back up my body. One of his hands went back to my breast and his mouth landed back on mine. I could taste myself and somehow that was insanely hot. I reached down and attacked the front of his jeans, tearing them open. He lifted his hips for me and I shoved them down. Flinging a hand out, I wrenched my bedside drawer open and grabbed a condom. Thank God, I had one. I found it floating around my drawer after my ex Richard left. I’d had it for-freaking-ever, but I was thanking past Sunny for not throwing it out. I handed it to him and he took it, lifted so he was kneeling on the bed and shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs. His cock sprang free and my body undulated beneath him. There was no other way to describe it. I was beyond hot for him even after the orgasm he’d just given me.

Zeke’s nostrils flared, dark eyes moving over me as he tore open the condom.

I watched him roll it on and my body rolled again, legs spreading wider, so desperate to feel him pushing inside me, I hurt.