She glanced down his torso, to his broad shoulders, strong pecs, and that chiseled abdomen with the tiny strip of hair that angled downward to the waistband of his slacks like a giant arrow. “Let me see the rest of you. I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Olivia—”
Grasping his good arm, she pulled him away from the wall, then angled around the side so she could get a look. There were a few cuts and scrapes and bruises across his back, but nothing that needed to be bandaged. Moving around his front once more, she pushed him back against the wall, straddled his hips, and laid her palms on his shoulders.
“Um, Olivia.” He tensed beneath her. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you’re not injured anywhere else. I know you may not like it, but I still do need you to get me out of here.”
His hands tentatively grazed her knees. “Why would you think I wouldn’t like that?”
She pressed her fingers along his shoulders, pretending to feel for wounds but truly just needing to touch him. It was silly—stupid, actually—but touching him reaffirmed that he was real. That he was alive. That she was too. And right now she needed that confirmation. Needed it more than she realized. “Because I’m not some voluptuous, mysterious redhead.”
He pushed away from the wall and sat up quickly, bringing their bodies into closer contact. His big hand captured her jaw, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I don’t want voluptuous redheads. I never did. I want . . .”
The words died on his lips. And something dark, something painful, flashed in his eyes before he released her and leaned back against the wall once more. “It doesn’t matter what I want. All that matters is getting you the hell away from here.”
The last rays of moonlight slowly dimmed, draping the loft in utter darkness. Even though he was beneath her, his face mere inches from hers, Olivia couldn’t see him anymore. But the things she’d seen in his eyes . . . those lingered. And ignited that burn inside into a full-blown blaze.
Her sex ached. Her breasts tingled. She was strung out on too much adrenaline, too little sleep, and a whole other set of emotions she hadn’t had time to process yet. But she didn’t want to think about any of that. She also didn’t care about what Landon wanted. She wanted him. Now, right now. And screw the consequences.
She leaned forward, couldn’t see in the dark to know how far away he was, but used her senses to guide her. Her breasts brushed his chest. She lifted a hand and grazed her fingers along the stubble of his jaw.
Beneath her, his whole body tensed, and he sucked in a breath. “Olivia—”
Her mouth found his. She tried to be gentle, considering his injured lip, but she didn’t want gentle. She wanted fast. She wanted deep. She wanted something to make her stop thinking, something to make her forget. She wanted something to take away all the pain and humiliation and horror of the last few hours.
She brushed her mouth against his and slipped the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips, wanting—no, needing—for him to let her in. And just when she thought he wasn’t going to, just when she thought she was going to have to get tough with him like he’d been with her outside that store, he groaned, opened to her, and stroked his tongue along hers until every nerve ending in her body came to life.
Ah God . . . She kissed him deeper, hungry for more. His arms snaked around her, pulling her in closer. Against her breasts she felt his warm, solid chest, and between her legs, his thick erection strained against the fly of his pants.
“Livy . . .” He slid one hand up into her hair, tipped her head the other way, and changed the angle of the kiss, devouring her mouth. She groaned against him and pressed down on his erection, needing to feel him closer, tighter, inside.
He kissed her again and again, but it wasn’t enough. Letting go of him, she reached for the zipper on her sweatshirt. As he slid his fingers along her jaw and continued to kiss her, she wriggled her way out of the garment. Tossing it on the hay around them, she dragged her mouth from his, grasped the hem of her tank, and wrenched it over her head.
“Olivia, wait.”
He couldn’t see her any better than she could see him, but he obviously knew what she was doing. She wasn’t about to be deterred, though. Flicking the clasp free on the back of her bra, she pulled the undergarment away, then dropped it as well. Her hand found his, and she dragged it close, then pressed his palm over her aching, naked breast. “No waiting.”
“Holy shit.” His hand closed around her breast, and she squeezed his fingers, urging him on, not even caring that he was swearing. He cupped her breast and dragged his thumb over the straining nipple. Grinding against his growing erection, Olivia groaned, dropped her head back, and searched for his other hand in the darkness, greedy for more.
Electrical vibrations echoed through her entire body. The first stirrings of a release she needed more than air to breathe teased the edges of her control. “Landon . . .”
His lips pressed against her jaw, the soft skin behind her ear, the sensitive column of her neck. Warm breath fanned her overheated skin, supercharging her blood, making her shiver with excitement. She rocked hard on his shaft. One hand moved from her breast, around her back to her ass. He gripped the denim in his big palm, dragging her even closer, lifting up to rub against her.
Electrical vibrations echoed through her sex, spread all across her pelvis and into her limbs. Yes, yes, yes. This was what she wanted. Every press of his erection against her core, every tug on her nipples pulled her closer to the edge. If he kept up that rocking, she might be able to come, just like this. If he kept pulling her in, thrusting against her, flicking her nipples . . . If he—
“Jesus, Livy.” His hand slid from her ass to her waist. The hand on her breast moved to her hip. Against her neck, he breathed heavily, no longer licking and kissing and sucking, but simply resting his forehead against her, as if he were trying to catch his breath. “We have to stop. I didn’t mean for that to happen. You don’t want—”
Oh no. Not happening. He wasn’t telling her what she wanted. She was done with people telling her what to do and when to do it.
Capturing his face in both her hands, she tipped his lips up until they were a breath from hers. “I want sex. Right now. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care if it’s what you want or not. I need this. So either shut up and fuck me, or I’ll go find someone else who will.”
For a breath, Landon didn’t move, couldn’t think, was sure he had to have heard her wrong.
“Should I go find someone else?” Olivia asked in the darkness.
Oh hell no. No one else was touching her. Not when he could give her exactly what she needed. The rational side of his brain shut down. Every ounce of longing he’d held back took over.
He captured her mouth and kissed her deeply, groaning when she opened and slid her wet, sultry tongue along his. She tasted of sin. Felt like heaven. He wanted to see her, to savor every inch of her, but the hard, aroused tips of her breasts were teasing him, taunting him, making his blood absolutely boil. Grazing his lips down her throat, he pressed kisses along her collarbone as he palmed one perfect breast, as he brushed his thumb over the straining tip, as he lifted it to his mouth and licked.
Her moan was pure satisfaction. The way she ground her hips against his made him even harder. He flicked the tip of his tongue against her nipple, laved a circle around the sensitive tip, then drew her deep and suckled.
“Oh . . . yes.”
Somewhere in the back of his head he knew this was wrong. She was clearly in the midst of a classic adrenaline crash. The woman who’d railed at him out in the middle of the countryside only a few hours ago and who hadn’t wanted him to even touch her wouldn’t be grinding against him now unless her brain had short-circuited. But even knowing that, even realizing this could come back to bite him in the ass still didn’t stop him. How many times had he fantasized about just
this very moment? How many times had he wished she’d beg him to touch her, exactly like this?
She groaned and rocked her sex against his swollen cock. He moved to her other nipple, licking and sucking and tasting his fill. She ground her hips against his, and between her legs, he could feel her heat growing. Could feel her steaming center.
He needed to touch her there. Needed to know how wet she was. Needed her.
He shifted forward, pushed her back on the blanket, and climbed over her, moving up to claim her mouth once more. She answered by reaching for his face, drawing him closer and kissing him as if she couldn’t get enough.
Darkness made it impossible to see. Her hands slid down his torso and found the snap at his waistband. She flicked it free while he kissed her deeper, and then her tantalizing fingers slid inside to close around his throbbing cock. Stars exploded behind his eyes, pushing aside all other thought.
Her hand was small. So damn soft stroking his shaft. And not nearly enough. “Livy . . .”
She pulled her mouth from his, yanked her hand free, and fumbled with the waistband of his pants. “Take these off. Right now. Hurry.”
His body didn’t seem to want to do anything else. He pushed up on one hand and wriggled his way free of his pants. Fabric rustled. Kneeling back on the blanket, he felt the silky graze of bare skin against his knee and realized she’d lost her pants too.
His pulse turned to a roar in his ears, and his cock grew impossibly hard with the knowledge she was naked beneath him. He kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, worked his way down her chest, needing to taste her between her legs. Her silky hand landed against his shoulder, though, stopping him. Then she pushed him back again so he was forced to sit, leaning against the wall. She climbed over him until her knees were pressing along the outside of his thighs once more. “Let me just get this right.”
Her hand closed around his cock, stroking his shaft from base to tip, sending electrical vibrations through his entire body. His hands found her thighs, her hips, her belly as her mouth closed over his again. He slid his fingers lower, across her satiny curls as she kissed him, then lower still, into her hot and—oh yes—dripping sex.
She was so ready for him. He groaned into her mouth, loving the taste of her, the feel of her, loving that this wasn’t a fantasy, but reality. He found her clit and circled the mass of nerves with his thumb.
She rocked into his hand, pulled her mouth from his, and groaned long and deep. He kissed her throat, circling faster, wanting to make her come just like this. Wanting to taste her come apart in his mouth next. But she tore her lips from his before he could get her there and angled away from him, as if she were reaching for something on the ground beside them in the dark.
“Condoms,” she gasped. “You have condoms in your wallet, right?”
Oh shit. A blast of cold rushed through Landon, and his thumb paused its path around her clit.
“Olivia.” He reached for her hand. “Olivia, I don’t have my wallet.”
She stilled above him, and silence echoed like cannon fire in his ears.
“They took it,” he said. “Like they took your purse.” Dammit, of all the stupid things to get in the way. Condoms . . .
“Did you sleep with that girl in your hotel room?”
“What?” She wanted to talk about that now? “No. I—”
“When was the last time you had a physical?”
His brain felt like it was in a fog. “A physical?”
“A medical checkup.”
He was having trouble focusing. “Two months ago.”
“Have you slept with anyone since?”
“No,” he breathed. She was the only one he wanted. She was the only one he’d wanted since he’d met her. “I—”
“Then I’d say you need this as much as I do.” Her hands landed on his shoulders, and she shifted back over him.
It took all of two seconds to realize what she had planned. He dropped his hands to her hips, trying to hold her in place. “Olivia. We can’t—”
“I get shots.” She leaned down to his mouth, her warm breath tickling his lips. “After what happened in Seattle, I wanted to make sure I was safe. And I haven’t been with anyone since my last physical either.”
She closed her mouth over his before he could stop her. Before he could think to. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, sliding across his, drawing his desire right back to the forefront.
God, he liked kissing her. Could go on kissing her forever.
Her hand drifted down his torso and closed over his cock. He sucked in a breath as her tight fist pumped him, sliding over the moisture at the tip. He needed to put a stop to this. Needed to think clearly—because she obviously wasn’t. After everything they’d been through, after everything she was enduring because of him, she shouldn’t want this. If she were thinking logically, she wouldn’t be straddling his hips right now. Wouldn’t be lining him up to take him in. Wouldn’t be—
She slid the tip of his cock over her sensitive clit. Desire roared through his blood even though his brain screamed this wasn’t right. She groaned. Did it again. Her whole body trembled.
Every inch of his skin burned as he looked down, trying to see where they touched. But it was too dark. God, he wanted to thrust up inside her, wanted to feel her heat close around him, wanted to let go. But he couldn’t.
His hands tightened around her waist, and he knew he was probably leaving marks, but he couldn’t let her do this. Not when he knew she’d regret it tomorrow. “Olivia. Stop.”
Her body stilled. Her hand stopped its frantic teasing. Heavy, rapid breaths met his ears. “You’re hard, Landon. I can tell you want this as much as I do. What’s the problem?”
Shit, she sounded hurt. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her more than he already had. “Livy, I—”
“What?” she said, leaning close. So close her lips were a breath from his again. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”
Somewhere inside he cringed. She didn’t like swearing, and she never used vulgar language. But another part of him grew even hotter hearing that word fall from her lips, knowing she wanted to do just that . . . with him. “Livy . . .”
Her lips pressed against his, and then she pulled back. “I need this, Landon.” Her knees shifted higher. The hand still wrapped around his cock pushed the tip lower, to her center, hot and steamy and so damn wet, his entire body trembled. “I need you to fuck me. Hard. Right now.”
She lowered before he could stop her, taking him deep in one quick thrust. And oh fuck . . . if he’d wanted to talk some sense into her, there was no way he could now. All thought rushed out of his head. They were bare, skin against skin, and she was so tight, so much tighter than he’d expected, for a second he was afraid she was going to cut off the blood flow to his cock.
She gasped as she bottomed out, dug her fingernails into his shoulder, and hissed in a breath. “I . . . Oh my God. I . . .” She shifted above him, gasped again, and muttered, “Oh shit.”
He knew he was hurting her. Just as he knew he was a son of a bitch who didn’t deserve this.
His hands landed against her hips. Though all he wanted to do was pull out and thrust deep inside her tight sheath once more, he forced himself to hold still. “Olivia—”
“No, don’t go anywhere. Just . . . give me a second.” Her knee brushed his hip. Around his length, her sex tightened, making him grit his teeth to keep from moving.
Common sense said he should pull out right this second and put a stop to it all, but a little voice in the back of his head rationalized that if, amidst all the bad shit he’d done to her, he could give her one moment of relief, then who the hell was he to say no?
“Let me help you.” Groaning to hold himself in check, he licked his thumb, slid it down her belly and between their bodies until he found her clit. Then he stroked.
She caught her breath. Loosened—just a touch—around him. With his other hand he found her breast and brought it to his mouth, dragging his tongue over her nipple. She answered by gasping and tightening around him, then rocking into his hips. Circling faster with his thumb, he let her take the lead, gave her time to adjust, then flexed his hips to give her the friction he knew would feel so good in just a second.
“Mm, yes . . .” Her fingers dug into his shoulders. She pulled her breast from his mouth. Her sex contracted, and she lifted, dragging her sheath all the way to the tip of his cock, then dropped back down to take him deep once more. He groaned at the slick glide, wanted her to do it again. Slipping his hand from her breast to her hip, he continued to flick her clit with his thumb, to drive her higher. To make her hotter.
“Ride me, Livy. Use me.” His hand closed around her hip. He thrust up to meet her downward stroke. Pleasure radiated outward to every cell in his body. Her gasps turned to sensual moans of indulgence, every sound making him harder, jacking him higher, pushing his orgasm closer.
Her thrusts picked up speed. Skin slapped in the darkness. Sweat broke out along his forehead and the line of his spine. Each time he drove deep, she clenched around him, sending waves of ecstasy through his limbs and shooting his senses into overdrive. The tip of his cock hit deep again and again, and her guttural moan each time told him he was rubbing that perfect spot and that it wouldn’t take long. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. Her sex grew even tighter and wetter around him. Sliding his hand to her other breast, he found her nipple and rolled the tip between his thumb and forefinger.
“Oh God, Landon . . .” Every muscle in her body contracted. Her back arched, and she cried out. Her channel grew incredibly tight around him, and though he told himself not to let go, biology took over. He thrust up again and again as his own climax barreled down his spine, slapped into his balls, and exploded through the end of his cock.
She fell forward, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, his lips blowing warm breaths against the soft column of her throat. She continued to ride him slowly, to milk him of every last drop of bliss. His heart raced against hers. Sweat slicked both their bodies. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight, trying—working—to clear the stars from his vision, to stop the room from spinning long enough so he could think.