Filthy English

“You like control?” I whispered, angling my chin up at him, spurring him on with a defiant look, knowing he liked the resistance.

“You complaining?” His eyes caressed my lips and I bit down with my top teeth, knowing his fascination with them.

“Never.”

As he lowered his head toward mine, I thought he was going to kiss me, but he veered down, capturing my nipple with his mouth.

One touch and I yelled out, my body arching up to him. Yes!

His tongue toyed with my breasts, moving from one to the other, even as his hands kept mine imprisoned. In the back of my mind, I told myself that this had always been inevitable since the moment we’d kissed at the club. This was fate, weaving her tapestry, making us part of her intricate plan.

Being careful of my tattoo, he swept his jaw across my chest to my hipbone, his nose running over every inch. Just when I thought he’d forgotten my breasts, he came back and licked. Bit. Nibbled. Teased.

I groaned, muttering. This was torture.

I wanted it fast. Hard. And then I wanted it again. And again.

“Say my name,” he said, his mouth on my shoulder, kissing down my arm, sending heated tingles everywhere.

“Dax, Dax, Dax.”

He grunted, his lips on my wrist, kissing the place where my bracelet had been. Turning my head, I watched him kiss my palm softly.

No, wait.

I struggled to get out of his grasp, and his eyes found mine.

“Don’t be . . . don’t be sweet,” I said.

He closed his eyes, as if to shield something. Nodded. “Right.”

He let my arms go and they clawed at him, pulling him down and crushing our bodies together. Nails raked down his back. I massaged the muscles that had grown since I’d last touched him like this.

He went to his knees, placed my legs over his shoulder, and kissed down my chest. As sunlight streamed in the room, he laved my skin with his tongue, eyes watching my face.

He tongued my hip, outlining my birthmark and kissing it. I screamed when he finally put his mouth on my core, my body bucking. Wet kisses and long licks. Soft touches. Pulsing over my skin. I moaned loudly, embarrassing myself. I stifled my voice with my fist.

Warmth built in my spine, sending electricity through every atom. Goosebumps rose. The hair on the back of my neck vibrated as I rushed to the edge of something wonderful.

“Say my name when you hit it.” His voice was dark, almost tortured, and I sensed the control he was keeping.

His finger slipped inside, sliding, curling over the bundle of nerves in my G-spot. He sucked my clit, leaving no part of me untouched, and I rose up to watch him, my heart in my throat, as his hand grabbed my hip to get me closer.

Closer. Closer.

His eyes locked with mine and . . .

Boom. Sparks flew in a million directions when I came, gasping his name, my body clamping around his fingers.

Out of nowhere, unshed tears burned in my throat, regret and love lust fighting in my head.

Why had he never wanted me the way I’d wanted him? When we had this?

It wasn’t just sex between us. I knew it, and I suspected he did too.

But it wasn’t enough for him to pick me.

Pushing those intruding thoughts away, I lay back, my body spent and legs quivering.

He stood, broad shoulders heaving, his expression off. A pulse throbbed at his temple. He looked dangerous. Bitter. And hot as hell.

Together we were a fucking mess of feelings.

He stalked over to his jeans on the floor, picked out his wallet, and pulled out a square package. Snapping it open with his teeth, he got the condom out and slid it on his straining length.

I groaned, desire roaring back. Flooding me.

He strode back to me. Silent.

Yet saying everything with his hungry eyes.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any girl in my entire life,” he said harshly, looking down at me on the bed.

“You sound angry about it,” I said as I rose up to my knees and touched his shoulder, tracing down his chest, passing my name over his heart.

He shuddered, his entire body vibrating. “Remi. It’s been so long . . .”

Since he’d had sex? Or since he’d had me?

I kissed his nipple and sucked hard, my hand moving to his shaft. He grunted and tossed his head back, maneuvering to give me a better grasp. I stroked him, pumping. I loved seeing him like this. He was a total Tau, a conqueror, but I could make him weak at my touch. Ready to break at any moment.

Need clawed at me, scratching to get out. “I want to see you come undone for me,” I said.

His eyes zoomed in on me. “Tell me something, do I make you come harder than Hartford?”

I didn’t answer, but stroked my nose up his neck. I whispered in his ear, “Get behind me.”

Without uttering a word, he pushed me down on the bed, flipped me over like a ragdoll and raised my hips up.

Standing at the foot of the bed, his hands traced down my back. Soft.

His length teased my entrance, dipping in the wetness—until he was gone.

“No,” he growled and flipped me back over, positioning himself between my legs. “I want to see your face.”

Yes. My heart hammered in my chest. Anything he wanted. Anything.

He nudged inside me a few inches then slid back out. “Remi,” he gasped. His thumb caressed my lips, and I bit his finger then kissed it gently.

He bent over me, a dark and pained look on his face as he slid out and then back, going deeper each time, getting me used to his thickness. I squirmed, my body adjusting to the tight fit. Working up to a slow pace, he finally hit all the way home, and I moaned.