Page 96 of Off the Mark
“You should take me inside, Rowan.” I flattened my hands against his chest and dragged them to his stomach. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Let me show you how I feel about you. Let me worshipyou.”
He took my mouth on a low growl. But before I could deepen the kiss, he was pushing open the door and we were stumbling back into his darkened house. He kicked the door shut, bent at the knees, and lifted me against his waist using his non-injured arm.
I hooked my legs around his hips and squeezed as he walked us backward from his living room into the kitchen. I’d been curious earlier about what it looked like, but now I was too distracted discovering how erotic it was to run my tongue up the column of Rowan’s throat.
The taste of sweat, the taste ofhim. That husky, desperate hitch in his breath made me want to tear his clothes off.
He dropped me onto a flat surface that I realized, dimly, was a kitchen counter. That same golden streetlight filtered into the dark room, shadowing the angles of his face. I almost said,you are so beautiful, except his hands were cupping my cheeks, tipping up my mouth for a kiss.
Knees high on his waist, I twisted fistfuls of his shirt while being forced back against the cabinets by the power of his mouth moving on mine. This kiss had the same rough, passionate edges as our last two, but a wild fury thrummed beneath our movements.
There would be no stopping, no interruptions, no prior engagements to prevent us from finally finishing what had first sparked between us at Jolene’s.
We parted on a shared, ragged breath. I tore my shirt off and did the same to his. Rowan still cradled my face in his large hands but now our eyes roamed eagerly over new, exposed skin.
I reached for his broad shoulders. Caressed the wide expanse of his chest—freckled skin and reddish chest hair, his strong stomach flexing beneath my wandering fingers.
Meanwhile, Rowan kept staring at me, swallowing thickly, gripping my face. I felt both restrained and cherished, a heady mix that had me tipping forward to steal a kiss.
He wouldn’t let me.
“Charlie,” he whispered. “Take off your bra. Now.”
I did, eagerly and with a sly grin. The cool air caressed my skin, though the heat of Rowan’s gaze was more tangible.
In a strained voice, he said, “Your nipples are pierced?”
My smile widened. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
He seemed to be waiting for permission. I flicked my eyes downward, arched my back slightly. He dropped his mouth to my chest and gathered me close, one palm splayed between my bare shoulder blades while the other explored my extra-sensitive piercings.
My head fell back on a long, satisfied moan while his face pressed to the space between my breasts.
“You’re a goddamn dream,” he sighed. His thumb traced the metal bar twice, the sensation a spike of sheer pleasure. That alone had me on edge.
Until the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue, curled around my other nipple. I screamed and clutched at his hair. Rowan growled, lapping at the metal, the leisurely speed in direct contrast to the sexual energy vibrating through his muscles.
He closed his lips around me and pulled. Flattened his tongue again for large, greedy swipes, moving between both breasts with a rapacious hunger.
I dropped my hands to his shoulders, molding them over the shifting muscle but careful of his surgical scars. I was in awe of the broad expanse of his back, boxed in by his body but not crowded. Only held and admired, like I was the most precious thing in Rowan’s world.
I became the object of his focus, his expertise, all that steady dedication of a former athlete. His tongue fluttered in small, purposeful circles over my piercing. I rolled my hips, rolled my body, floating on a suspended pleasure that felt close to snapping.
I knew what I wanted next.
I pulled Rowan’s head back, and my heart lodged in my throat at his visible undoing. His hair was mussed, eyes wild, lips swollen. I ghosted my lips over his before nipping at his jaw. “Take off the rest of my clothes and get on your knees.”
If I had any doubts that Rowan was up to the task of pleasing me—and I never had, not even once—the cocky grin that slid across his face just then would have destroyed them. It was the kind of smile that devastated, and I wasn’t prepared to be soswept awayby it.
His hands were pulling off my shorts and underwear in mere seconds, then he was exploring my mouth again in teasing licks and sumptuous bites. Tasting me, slowly. Sipping at my mouth, stroking his tongue, until I trembled from head to toe.
When he pressed his forehead to mine, I felt the weight of his ravenous gaze, exploring the length of my naked body. He blew out a few harsh breaths before tilting my head to bite the shell of my ear.
“I have spent whole hours of my life fantasizing about you shoving me to the floor and riding my mouth. Fully naked, just like this.”
His hand slid down my leg and his fingers closed around my ankle, right above my black platform boots. “But with your heels still on.”
I arched an eyebrow—unbearably pleased by this information—and dragged the toe of my boot up the front of his thigh. Lightly caressed the front of his cock, which had a slew of filthy words tumbling from his lips. Then I flattened it against his stomach. Pushed, just a little.
