Page 105 of Crash Course

I yank at his shirt impatiently. He strips it over his head, his awkward shrug and sharp hiss of breath the only indication it’s painful.

The pattern of bruises has my eyes widening but he’s already reaching for the hem of my shirt. The next second it’s gone. My grip on his neck tightens and I press my breasts against his chest, needing to be closer.

“I thought about you,” he murmurs. “When I hit the barrier, my first thought was of you.”

Our last time was fueled by need and desperation. This feels different.

Jameson unfastens my jeans and tugs them and my underwear down my hips.

“Forgive me yet?”

I shake my head. “Still no.”

He levers over me, tracing a path across my stomach and down my thighs.

Whatever advantage I had, I feel it slipping away under his ruinous blue gaze filled with intent.

He yanks my legs wide. My breath catches.

I’ve pictured Jameson Ashford between my thighs. This time, it’s not a dream.

His mouth lowers to my body, far too slowly.

The first brush of his lips on my inner thigh makes me gasp.

The next is higher, closer to where I need him, and it’s chased with a graze of teeth.

The garage is cold. I’m on fire.

“Jameson…”

He licks a slow path up my slit where I’m already aching. Pleasure streaks through me, has me arching against his mouth.

“What about now.” His voice rumbles against my skin.

My hands fist against the hood of the car, nails scraping the topcoat. “Not yet.” It’s a whispered plea. My fingers tugging on his hair are a command.

He growls as if he wants to argue. Or maybe he approves of me sending him back to his work.

He’s focused, and having every ounce of that intensity on me is mind blowing. He slips a finger inside, working it in slow, rhythmic motion with his wicked mouth.

Almost.

When he groans, I realize I’ve said it out loud.

He builds the tension, handling me as if I’m the only thing he wants to drive. Then presses two fingers inside me so deep my toes curl. I’m practically purring.

I ride his hand and his mouth until the need overwhelms me with pleasure. Every muscle in me pulls tight, sharp.

He doesn’t stop. He sucks on my skin, the pressure of his mouth and the stretch of his fingers sending me over the edge.

Everything goes bright. My eyes are shut but I’m blinded by hot white light.

Pleasure ripples through me, so much I’m not sure my body can take it. He stays with me, holding me, chasing me until the last of the shocks fade and I can breathe.

It’s not enough.

I drag him up to me by the hair. His pupils are blown, huge and dark with desire. I need him, all of him.