Page 25 of Renegade
“First things first,” he says, his voice husky. And then he kisses me. And I mean hekissesme. This isn’t a grazing of lips or a friendly, chaste peck. Walker fucking owns my mouth. He starts out unhurriedly, licking softly at my lips in away that sends little wisps of desire swirling through me like smoke from a campfire. My hunger for him permeates every pore, and I know the memories will settle in my brain the same way the scent of a campfire lingers long after the flames are gone. But there’s no turning back now.
His lips press against mine harder, demanding more, and I’m caught up in the maelstrom of sensation. Kissing him is so intoxicating and he tastes so good, and somehow my fingers are in his hair and I’m opening my mouth hungrily to him, eager for more. He growls and deepens the kiss, exploring more intimately now. His tongue strokes mine erotically, sweeping lightly over my teeth before our lips crash together again. Hungry. Tasting. Teasing. Wanting. He bites my lower lip and tugs, and I whimper. With a groan, he spears his tongue into my mouth and I suck it deeper, unable to get enough. Who knew kissing Walker would be so fucking hot? Our tongues tangle together, our lips speaking a language of their own, until we both have to come up for air.
We stop and stare at each other, both of us stunned by the energy crackling between us. He speaks first.
“You’ve got to get out of those clothes.”
I laugh softly as I shrug out of my jacket, and he takes it from me and tosses it onto a chair. I start to pull off my tank top, but he pushes my hands away. “There’s no fucking way you’re denying me the pleasure of taking every damn piece of clothing off you.”
In one swift movement, he peels my top off, and it lands next to my jacket. Then his lips are on mine again, kissing me, devouring me, as his hand slides up my bare thigh and under the short, flirty skirt I changed into before we went out. He cups my ass cheek, which is bared by the skimpy lace panties I’m wearing, and growls. He pulls back slightly and looks at me with heat in his whiskey-colored eyes. “Dammit, you have the hottest ass. I can’t get the image of it, all pink and wiggling around on my lap, out of my head.”
Oh, God. Him too? The memory has something deep in my core tightening. I have the sudden, overwhelming need to touch him, to feel his hard muscles and run my hands over his smooth, hot skin. I wordlessly grab the hem of his T-shirt and drag it over his head. Oh, holy hell. With a body like his on a poster, Walker could singlehandedly eliminate the need for a draft. His chest is smooth and well-defined, with a little smattering of dark hair right in the center, and his abs are downright mouthwatering. He’s got just enough muscle to make me feel soft and feminine next to him, like he could take on the world to protect me. I run my hands over his chest and biceps, memorizing the feel of him as I trace each cord of muscle with my fingertips.
“You’re going to have to stop that before I unman myself,” he says tightly. He grabs my hands and pins them behind me, circling my wrists with his hand as he pushes me back against the wall. My stomach clenches deliciously at the way he takes charge.
His mouth is on me like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. He starts at the sensitive hollow behind my ear and makes his way across my jaw and then down the column of my neck, devouring me with hungry kisses and tiny nips. He stops as his nimble fingers release the clasp of my bra in one quick movement, and I feel the cold hotel room air whisper across my now bared breasts. They feel tight and heavy, and oh so needy.
“Fuck!” He says it reverently, his eyes hot with desire as he stares at my chest. I’ve never felt so beautiful or so desired before. Walker makes me feel like my body is a rare treasure that he’s the first to discover. And that he can’t wait to plunder.
He bends his head and fastens his mouth over one nipple. He sucks, his teeth lightly clamping down over the hard little nub as he pulls up and lets it go with a little pop, and heat stabs through me. I look down at my nipple, which is now rosy and impossibly erect. Walker smiles and moves to the other one, repeating the process, although this time, he holds the nipple in his mouth until I start to squirm slightly before letting it go.
“I love how responsive your nipples are to me,” he says with a satisfied grin.
He bends forward again and teases first one nipple and then the other, alternately swirling his tongue around each tightened bud and then sucking and biting lightly before pulling it into his mouth again. I think I’m going to explode. There’s a slight edge of ruthlessness to the way Walker touches me—a tightly controlled but undeniable hardness that is as surprising as it is intoxicating. He’s always been my rock and my protector. I’m not used to this side of him. His rough brutality is even hotter because I know, unequivocally, that he would never hurt me.
He lets go of my wrists so he can cup my ass with one hand while he squeezes my breast with the other, his thumb and forefinger alternately rolling and pinching and tugging my now engorged nipple in a way that has me gasping, and I can feel the wetness growing between my legs. As he toys with my nipples, his hand strokes and squeezes my ass, sending shivers up my spine. I want his hands, his mouth, his touch, everywhere.
As if reading my mind, his fingertips trail lower, over the plane of my stomach and down to my wet and needy sex. I inhale sharply as his finger traces the line of my slit. Oh, God. His mouth finds mine at the exact moment that he pierces me with his finger, his tongue simultaneously plunging into my open and willing mouth. I kiss him feverishly as he works his finger in and out of my now-drenched opening, driving me into a frenzy. He adds another finger, and I involuntarily tilt my hips toward him, eager for more. He pushes deeper, touching something deep inside me, and I moan as my sex clenches around him. He’s thrusting harder now, stimulating something I’ve never felt before. The feeling is almost overwhelming, and I feel my control slipping as a crazy, mindless, animalistic need blurs my senses. There’s a keening whimper, and I realize hazily that it’s coming from me. I’m careening out of control. I’ve never felt so desperate for something before. And it scares the shit out of me. I need to put the brakes on. Fast!
“I want to feel your cock,” I finally manage to say, my breath ragged.
Walker doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, taking me straight toward mindless insanity. I can’t take it anymore. I need a minute before I completely lose it. I still his hand with mine. “Stop. I want to taste you.”
It’s not a lie. I’m dying to see his cock, to wrap my hand around its thickness and take it into my mouth. But more importantly, I need a minute to regroup and collect myself from whatever the hell he was doing to me. And I know there’s no better way to distract a man than with your lips around his cock.
“Yeah?” His face is inches from mine, and there’s a hint of challenge in his gravelly voice. I have the uncanny feeling that he knows what I’m up to; I’m not fooling him at all. But there’s no way I’m admitting I’m scared or overwhelmed to Walker Kinkaid.
“Yeah.”
“Then get on your knees, baby.”
His raw command sends shivers of desire thrumming through me. I willingly drop to my knees and unbutton his jeans, slowly easing both his jeans and his boxer briefs over his hips as the hard length of him springs free. Hot damn. The quick glimpse I got the other night did not do him justice. Walker’s cock is just as beautiful and powerful looking as the rest of him. I wrap my hand around him, planting little kisses up his inner thighs and across his rock-hard stomach while I take a good look at his amazing package.
Looking straight into his eyes, I lick the entire length of him from base to tip.
“Damn, you’re sexy as hell,” he breathes.
Feeling like Wonder Woman, I slide my fingers down to the base of his shaft as I eagerly take him into my mouth. His head falls back as he moans. I smile to myself. He hasn’t seen anything yet. I pride myself on my blow jobs, and I’m about to give him the best one he’s ever had.
I take my time, circling the broad head slowly, then flicking the sensitive spot where the head meets the shaft with the tip of my tongue a few times. He groans. I grip the base of his shaft tightly and, wetting my lips and his cock, I take him into my mouth. I rhythmically move my mouth and hand together, up and down, up and down, my head bobbing as he grows even harder in my mouth. I take him deeper, and he hisses as his cock touches the back of my throat. I slide him back out of my mouth, sucking lightly on the tip. I suck his head eight times, then take him deep. Seven shallows sucks, then back to my throat. I keep going as his fingers fist more and more tightly in my hair. Lick, suck, swallow, lick, suck, swallow. I’m about to take him deep again when he pulls me to my feet with a growl, his lips crushing against mine.
“My turn,” he rasps.
“I wasn’t done,” I protest. To be honest, going down on a guy totally turns me on. Going down on Walker takes it to a whole other level.
“You’re done when I say you’re done, and you’re done. Your mouth feels way too good.” He lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing and carries me to the bed and lays me down on it, his body hovering over me with his powerful forearms braced on either side of my head.
“I’m going to savor every delicious inch of you now.” It’s a statement, and coupled with the way he intertwines his fingers with mine and pins my hands to the bed as he kisses me again, it seems I don’t have a say in the matter. Not that I care. If anything, it makes me more turned on.I love the way he takes charge. I squirm a little, just to see if I can get away, but he just tightens his grip, moves our hands so they’re outstretched to the side, smiles, and nips my jaw.
