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Authors: M. Leighton

Tags: #contemporary romance, #love, #new adult, #Romance, #Series, #steamy

All Things Pretty (19 page)

BOOK: All Things Pretty
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“You taste just like I knew you would.
Addictive. Sexy. Sinful,” he murmurs against me, the unshaven
scruff around his mouth a bristly, delicious torture. “I could lick
you all night long and never get tired.”

Sweep, flick, suck, nibble, he doesn’t stop.
All the while, one finger slowly penetrates me in long drags that
force my hips to rock against him for more. I wriggle and writhe
beneath him, ache turning into throb, throb turning into need. A
grunt of frustration escapes my throat and Sig chuckles against me,
a low, throaty sound that makes me quiver. “Be patient,” he
whispers, brushing his mouth back and forth over me.

I’m panting, my infuriating impatience on
the rise. “I need you inside me,” I plead.

“You do?” he asks, a smile in his voice.

“Sig, please!” I’m ready to snap and I know
he can hear it in my voice.

“Be patient,” he says again.

He increases the pressure of his mouth, but
not his finger. Still, it slips in and out, deep and deliberate. I
rock against his face, against his hand, but he pulls back,
unwilling to let me rush him, rush
this.
I grit my teeth and
my abdomen trembles and jerks.

It hurts so good– the prolonged yet steady
build– that a petulant sob swells behind the wall of my ribs.
Unable to think of what I might do to ease it, I fist one hand in
Sig’s short hair and I pull. Harder than I might’ve intended to,
but enough to ease some of my angst.

Suddenly, Sig releases me. Without warning,
he leans up and over my body, looping one arm beneath my knee and
rolling my hips back toward me. Then, with one slick, thick thrust,
he’s inside me. My startled yelp melts into a loud cry of
satisfaction. He pounds me. That’s the best way I can describe it.
Harder and harder, deeper and deeper, he plunges his length into
me, bringing me back to a pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known.
I squeeze my eyes shut, aware only of the swirl of colors behind my
lids as liquid heat pours through my muscles, turning them to
quivering masses of release.

Waves still rolling through me, I manage to
open fuzzy eyes and focus on Sig. He’s watching me, a fierce
expression on his face. It seems he was waiting for me, waiting for
me to open my eyes so we could finish this together.

The moment our eyes meet, I feel him tense
and I know he’s ready to continue his own hunt. Gazes locked, I
watch his expression, his intensity. I don’t think I could look
away from his breathtaking face if I tried. So I don’t. I take him
in. I revel in what he’s feeling, in what I do to him. And what he
does to me. What we do to each other.

Sig arches his back and holds his upper body
away from mine as he chases his own peak, grinding and swiveling
his hips against mine in a way that forces my body to come along
for his ride. Surge after surge, I’m slave to the flow of my own
pleasure until Sig stiffens, forcing his body deep within mine
until he collapses atop me, his sweat-slicked chest pressed tightly
to mine.

 

********

 

Seconds or minutes or hours later, his harsh
breathing having settled into deep inhalations and sighs to release
them, Sig lifts his head and looks down at me, his chocolate eyes
light and satisfied. More golden even. Like the color of molasses.
“I’m glad you came.”

“I don’t think I could’ve stayed away.”

“I’m glad you didn’t try,” he admits,
grinning down at me.

I feel clouds roll in, like fog settling
over a lush, green field of contentment. “Sig, I–”

He lays his index finger over my lips.
“We’ve still got a lot left of this night. Don’t ruin it.”

“But–”

“No buts. Tonight is for animal sex and
happy thoughts. Nothing more. Got it?”

I smile. I can’t help myself. “Got it.”

With a rough kiss to my lips, Sig pulls out
of me and rolls to his side, pulling me half onto his chest. I rest
my head over his heart, somehow comforted by the steady thud of it
beneath my ear.

Lazily, I draw tiny circles around his
little flat man nipple. “Tell me about your family. Are you an only
child, or…?”

“God no! Sometimes I used to wish I was, but
I’m nowhere near an only child. I’ve got two brothers and a sister.
Assholes, one and all.”

I slap his ribs. “Don’t say that! They’re
your family.”

“What does that matter? Family can be
assholes, too.”

“Yes, but you’re supposed to overlook
it.”

“Fine,” he says with an exasperated sigh.
“They’re not
all
assholes. At least not all the time.” I
hear the rumble of his chuckle. It vibrates through my jawbone and
tickles my lips. “Nah, I guess they’re pretty all right. The oldest
can be a little overbearing sometimes. Total control freak. But he
means well.”

“Are you closest to him?”

“No. I’m closest to my little sister. I’d
never tell her, of course, but she’s pretty kickass. For a girl
anyway,” he adds emphatically, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I
twist his nipple. “Ow! God! That hurt!” he exclaims. Then he leans
down to grab a handful of my butt and pinch. “Do it again.” I can
hear the laugh in his voice.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“If that’s code for a hot, sexual dynamo
with a cunning intellect then I couldn’t agree more.”

I groan and roll my eyes, even though he
can’t see me. He can’t see my smile either. “So the oldest is
overbearing, the youngest is the best. What about your
parents?”

“My dad’s cool. Still around. My mom died
when I was seven.” There’s no levity in his voice now. “She was
sick as a kid. Cancer. They thought she’d be fine. Turns out she
wasn’t. It was tough. Just about killed my dad. He loved her. Too
much, maybe.”

I lift up my head to find his eyes. “Too
much? Is it even possible to love someone too much?”

“I think so. I don’t ever want to love
someone so much that being apart from them makes me forget that
there are other things to be happy about in life.”

I lay my head back down. I don’t want him to
see that my heart breaks a little at his words. “I think I might
like nothing more than to love someone in that way. And for them to
return it,” I say softly, impulsively giving voice to something
I’ve never shared with anyone before.

“Why? Why would you want to love someone so
much that you’d be miserable without them?”

“I don’t think people set out to lose the
ones they love. It’s not exactly the norm.”

“But why risk getting hurt like that? Why
seek that kind of shit out?”

“People risk it because if tragedy doesn’t
strike…and you get to keep the ones you love…it’s worth it.”

“Even if it hurts? I mean, they’ll die
eventually. In the end.”

I smile against his chest. “Especially if it
hurts.”

“That doesn’t go there, you know. That only
applies when you have to do something you don’t want to do,
something that’ll end up being worth it somehow.”

“Of course it goes there. Pain reminds us
that we’re alive. Reminds us to fight. Without it, we might just
drift through life, unaware.”

“And what do you fight for?” he asks
quietly.

“Travis.” I don’t even hesitate. He’s been
my reason for…everything for years.

“Nothing else is worth fighting for?”

“Nothing more than him.”

Sig grips my upper arms and drags me fully
on top of him until our eyes are level, my face inches from his.
“I’ll help you fight for him. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?
Fighting for him? This is all for Travis.”

“I told you–” I start to pull away, but Sig
won’t let me. He pins me to him with his stare as well as with his
hands.

“I know what you told me. And I’m telling
you again. You can trust me, Tommi.” He pulls me down until we are
nose to nose, his lips grazing mine as he speaks. “You can trust
me.”

We stare into each other’s eyes, a battle of
wills. One every bit as fierce as the other. Me, determined not to
give in, not to trust, not to relinquish control. Him determined to
make me, to convince me, to sway me. When I would pull away, Sig
grabs my face between his big hands and holds me still, trapped in
his gaze, as though by keeping me here long enough, he might force
me to believe him.

And then his lips are on mine, hard,
demanding. Hot. We are at odds. We are destined to clash, to
batter, to end. But for the moment, for right now, coming together,
meeting in the middle is inevitable.
We
are inevitable. We
are smoke, we are fire, we are heat and desire and unquenchable
thirst.

My legs fall on either side of his, knees
meeting the mattress, and I dive into his kiss, letting the animal
loose, like he said. With fingers we grasp. With teeth we bite.
With mouths we devour.

I feel him growing beneath me, his erection
pressing into my warmth, and moisture rushes to the place where I
straddle him. Without releasing my lips, I feel as much as hear his
movement as he reaches into the table beside the bed to get another
condom. With quick, efficient movements, he jerks one off and
stretches another on, and then he’s gripping my hips, holding me
still, then pulling me down onto him.

Simultaneously, he flexes his hips, seating
himself more fully within me. I cry out in utter ecstasy. It takes
a moment before I can relax around him, still unaccustomed to the
heady sensation of being stretched to what feels as though it’s
beyond my limit.

I experience his penetration from groin to
groin, from front to back, and all the way into my abdomen. He’s
buried so deep, I wonder that it’s pressure from his tip that
stimulates my diaphragm and makes me breathless.

I struggle to breathe, pulling away from him
to sit up and force big gulps of air into my stiff lungs. The
upright position does nothing to help my breathing, only brings him
farther inside me. I let my head fall back, pleasure rolling
through me like thunder. As though he knows the kind of thrall I’m
in, he squeezes my hips with his hands and grinds my sex against
his, the friction too delicious for words.

When I can finally manage the intake of air
without conscious effort, I gasp, several long, deep, half-moans
that further incite Sig. He sits up as well, his mouth going
straight for one nipple, giving it a suck as he reaches between us
and unerringly finds my folds. When he takes my clit between his
thumb and forefinger and pinches it lightly, rhythmically, thunder
turns into lightning. One moment, I’m adjusting to his size and
intensity, the next I’m moving up and down on him, falling headlong
into another orgasm.

Relentlessly, Sig drives me over the edge
and down into oblivion. Ecstasy sweeps through me, dizzying my
head, scrambling my thoughts. For a moment, I feel disoriented,
wavering atop him like a compass needle that can’t find true north.
Sig pulls me to him, crushing me against his chest until I find my
bearings in reality again.

When I open eyes I wasn’t aware of closing,
they click to a stop on his lush brown ones. They’re inky black and
vicious, fierce, like the devil himself is on his heels. He’s
watching me take my pleasure, watching it overcome me. Waiting,
just waiting for the moment when he will give in to his own.

Moving his hands back down to my waist, eyes
locked on mine, Sig lies back, teeth gritted, and he plants his
feet on the bed, lifting his hips and ramming his cock into me over
and over again until I reclaim the release that I thought had
subsided.

Finally, he grunts, a protracted growl of
sorts that tells me he’s close to what he was looking for. I hold
on tight, watching him, loving the way his abs contract, so tight
under his strain. Before I know what’s happening, Sig’s arm is
around my waist and I’m on my belly with him leaning over me. My
legs are swiftly parted and he’s plunging into me from behind,
bringing on a whole new flood of pleasure, pleasure that never
seems to end beneath his skilled hands and body.

Sig’s hips slap into mine so forcefully that
my teeth jar in my head. But he doesn’t hurt me. If anything, the
depth, the aggressiveness of his sensual assault sends electric
shocks of bliss streaking through me. I wonder that he doesn’t
tire. Or hurt himself. But he is as powerful in his lovemaking as
he is in his body, his cock as strong and sure as the rest of
him.

I feel it when he comes. It’s as though
there is nothing between us. He pulses inside me, his cadence
faltering the tiniest bit as he drops forward to rest one hand on
the bed beside me, his breathing as labored as mine.

Sig withdraws from me, turning me gently so
that both of us fall back onto the pillows, panting like marathon
runners. I grin up at him. “When you said animal sex, you meant it,
didn’t you?”

He laughs, throwing his arm over his eyes as
he rolls onto his back again. “What can I say? You bring out
my…baser instincts. Protect. Possess. Devour.”

His words send chills racing down my back. I
say nothing. I don’t know what
to
say.

After a few moments of silence, Sig leans up
beside me, resting his weight on one elbow. He stares down into my
eyes, his face full of a thousand wonders.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Scare you?”

“God no!”

“Please you?” he asks, his voice as quiet
and coarse as black velvet.

“Yes. Very much so.”

When he closes his eyes, his face is
wreathed with a grin that is all happy, cocky man.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR SIG

 

Two hours later, my head buzzes. My
fingertips throb. My eyes close. Damn. There’s nothing like this
feeling–release. I’ve wanted Tommi since I saw her on the side of
the road, but I never really expected…
this.
Holy shit!
Tonight was more than I could’ve hoped for. Stronger. More potent.
More satisfying.

When I can lift my head, I look down at
Tommi. Her sleepy eyes are focused on mine. I kiss the tip of her
nose. “Can you stay all night?” I ask.

BOOK: All Things Pretty
4.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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