Remy (15 page)

“Yes, yes, yes, Remington,
yes
.” She fists her hands in my hair and I inhale her like a madman, then I grab her face and drag my tongue up her neck, her jaw, and lick the entry of her lips.

Hungrily, I part her open and nibble the soft flesh, making her whimper as I thrust inside. Our tongues tangle, and holy god, I swear I can feel her melt for me while I burn for her. I burn so fiercely my nerves crackle like fireworks inside me as I strip off my bottoms and her bra. I fill my hand with the flesh of one full breast and lift a puckered nipple to my mouth. I wet it with my tongue while I sift my fingers under her panties . . . and then she’s in my hand. Hot and slick.
Mine
.

“Tell me this is for me,” I gutturally command, teasing the tip of a finger inside her.

“It’s for you,” she gasps, then she kisses my temple and jaw as I tear off her panties with one quick yank.

Her eyes widen in pure female excitement as I lift her and swing around, slamming her back against the wall, her legs coming around me. I settle the length of my cock at her entrance and yank her arms up above her head.

“Are you mine?” I demand, sliding a hand between us and easing my middle finger inside.

“I’m yours.”

The words ripple through me as I scrape my middle finger deep inside her channel. “Do you want me inside you?” I huskily demand.

Her eyes are glazed with desire, her lips reddened and wet by me. “I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.”

I struggle to stay in control when I start penetrating her, slow and easy. Slow enough not to hurt her. Only to pleasure her. She whimpers as I stretch her, and as I start to pull out, she holds on to me and drops herself lower—taking all of me inside. Pleasure rips through me as her heat envelops me.

Crazed with desire, I grab her breasts and push my tongue inside her mouth, and she sucks me, drinks me. I feast on her jaw, her chin, her tasty little neck, then I duck my head and suckle one of her pretty nipples into my mouth.

“Remy,” she moans, and tightens her arms around my neck. Her strong, lithe, little thighs clench around my hips, and a bolt of pleasure shoots through my body, making me tremble as I hold still.

“Remy . . .” she pleads, rocking her hips. “Please, please . . .
move
.”

I groan and try not to think about how good she feels so that I can make it last, but she wants it . . . fuck, I want it more than I want to live. Slowly, I withdraw from all that wet, delicious heat, then thrust back in. A sound of pleasure tears from both of us. Her pussy ripples around me, and my cock is so ready to jet off, it takes everything in me to pull out of her snug warmth and thrust back in, and when I do, I growl and drop my forehead to hers, kissing her without control. I rasp her own name into her mouth and clench her hips as I pull out and ram back in, deep enough that every part of my cock is embedded inside her. I’m so worked up with this new rhythm, I go off violently inside her. She comes with me, and we shake and clutch each other. She twirls her little tongue up my throat as our bodies contract and unwind as we press together, and when I finally relax, I growl softly.

I’m still hard as rock and she’s still wet as fuck, so I grab her ass and keep her legs around me, carrying her to the bed. Still inside her, I set her down gently, prop a pillow under her head, and I start moving again.

Testing her first, doing it slowly, I’m wordlessly asking,
You want more?

She responds with a sexy little mew as she rakes her nails down my back, and she’s stunning beneath me. A fucking wet dream looking up at me. Swollen lips. Glazed gold eyes. Flushed cheeks. Dark hair. She pants for air as I bend to force my tongue into her mouth.

“You wanted me,” I rasp, and, god, I can see that she does as she stops gasping to suck on my tongue. “Here I am.”

I claim her harder this time, plowing her so that every cell in her body is jarred by my fucking thrusts and so she knows I’m her fucking man now. She takes it so well and looks so hot as she comes, I pull out and rub my wet cock over her thighs, her abdomen, squeezing her lovely breasts in my hands and tasting her neck as I get her all sticky and wet with me.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long, Little Firecracker.”

I love how she likes when I play with her nipples. I love how hard and tiny they are, and how pink and responsive. Tweaking them until they look red and happy from my pinching, I grab her hips and take her again. Deep. Hard. My fingers dig into her hips, and she’s so hungry and tight, she moans my name,
“Remington.”

I’m claiming her—and she’s giving it up to me with no protest. She wants to be claimed. She wants to be mine.

She
is
. Mine. Now.

She gasps . . .
“Please, oh, god, you’re so hard, you feel so good.”

And I tell her she’s “so sweet and wet” as she grabs my buttocks and pulls me closer as she twists underneath me, and I can’t resist the way her pussy starts milking me. Her orgasm tears out a soft cry from her lips, and I release a low, ragged moan, my body clenching and releasing with her.

We collapse on the bed, and she draws my arm around her body and cuddles closer, kissing my nipple. I shift her so I lie on my back and she lies straight over me, her tight tummy against mine.

I feel like a goddamn king. I’ll never get enough of you, never. . . .

She’s the first woman I’ve ever come inside of. She fucking let me. To me, that’s code for
You’re definitely my man
.

Yeah, I feel fucking fantastic and I still want to bathe her in me so every inch of her beautiful skin smells of Remington Fucking Tate tonight, her man.

Shifting her, I spread her small, loose body over mine, stomach to stomach, and nuzzle her ear as I run my hands down her sweet curves. “You smell of me.” I fucking like it so much, I start sniffing her neck.

“Hmmm” comes her lazy answer.

My nose brushes against her temple as I clench her juicy ass. She sounds sleepy, but I’m too wired now to rest. “What does
hmmm
mean?”

“You said it first,” she saucily counters, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

My gaze trails down the curve of her jaw in the darkness as I gently tell her, “It means I want to eat you. Your little biceps. Your little triceps.” I nudge her nose with mine so she tips her head back, then I kiss her sweet mouth. “Now you.”

Easing sideways, she takes my hand and spreads it over her abdomen, where I left a damp trail on her skin. “It means I’m going French this week and not showering so I can smell you on me.”

God, I swear only my woman would say that. Groaning, I shift us sideways so that we face each other, then I reach between her legs and slide my semen up the inside of her thigh, into her pussy. “Sticky?” I croon as I bend my head and tongue her shoulder, meanwhile penetrating my wet finger back inside her. “Do you want to wash me off you?” I gently prod.

Brooke wiggles almost unnoticeably, but not so unnoticeably that I don’t see she wants to get closer to me, my lips, my body, and my fingers. I fucking love it. “No,” she breathes, parting her legs just a little bit for me. “I want you to give me more.”

What I want is for her to taste us, so I rub my wet finger across her lips and push it into her mouth.

“I wanted you since the first night I saw you,” I gruffly murmur to her, watching her suck on it.

“So did I.”

Her admission tangles all over my gut, and I shove a second damp finger into her mouth, watching her soft, gold eyes drift shut as she licks up our taste like it’s a banquet. When she moans, I’m swelling back up again.

“Do you like my taste?” I prod.

“Hmm. That’s all I want from now on.” She lightly bites my fingertips, and my cock jumps to full length as her teeth sink into my flesh. “I’ll always want my Remy fix after dinner,” she continues. I’m getting painfully hard and the teasing glimmer in her eyes is driving me insane with lust. “And maybe before breakfast. And after lunch. And at teatime.”

I groan, I can’t take it. A man with a purpose, I slide down her parted legs and my tongue lashes out to taste her sex. She archs up in offering, and I grab her buttocks to lift her higher to my mouth, her taste intoxicating. Sweet, with a little kick that lands straight in my fucking balls. I’m so fucking horny and thirsty for her, I can only speak in between licks. “I . . . want to . . . come . . . on every part of your body.” I suck her taste in, pinching my eyes shut as I savor, then I rise to stroke my erection along her entry once more.

She grabs my head and rocks in a silent plea as she takes my lips with hers. “Come wherever you want, inside me, outside me, in my hand, in my mouth.”

Her fingers curl around my cock, and the touch is so unexpected, so sweet and so bold as she gently strokes me, my cock jerks and I start coming, splashing semen all over her arm, her wrist. She rolls me onto my back and jumps on me, impaling herself on my shaft, and I bark out in pleasure and thrust my head back as I grip her hips and pull her up, then ram her back down, still jetting off inside her.

Later, she shudders with a soft scream, tossing her head back as she explodes with me, then she falls, limp and unresponsive, on my chest. I spread her over me and leave my cock inside her, panting, sliding my hands down her back, tracing her ass, the dents of her spine.

We lay for hours, petting. She’s weak, but I’m still hyped up from being with her. I can’t stop stroking my hands down her curves. I touch her knee, her bottom, her hair. “The night they sedated you . . .” she asks me groggily, hours later, “that was an episode?”

She caresses my abs, but not even her touch keeps me from tensing up at the topic.

“Can we even talk about it?” she asks.

I close my eyes as she continues caressing. I haven’t been given caresses that aren’t foreplay before. I don’t allow these when we’re done, I’m done. Like a fight. But she’s touching me and I like it so much, I press her down to my neck so she doesn’t put any distance from me. “You can talk to Pete about it,” I whisper.

“Why don’t
you
talk to me about it, Remington?”

Ah,
fuck
. I sit up and twist my feet off the bed, then drag my hands down my face. “Because a lot of episodes I don’t remember what I do.”

I start pacing. I hate talking about it. The topic distresses me. It’s something I can’t remember and usually have no clear control over. What does she want me to say? I do shit, and then I’m not sure I did it? I seem to lose control, and when I come to my senses, I usually find out from someone else what a major dick I seem to have been?

“All right, I’ll talk to Pete about it, but come back to bed,” she blurts out, but she ceded too easily. I’m no moron and I know she wants to know. Hell, she deserves to know.

“I remember you,” I tell her, just to be clear about that. “In my last episode. The tequila shots. The way you looked. The little top you were wearing. The nights you slept in my bed.”

She seems to absorb that for a moment and then whispers, her voice holding the most tenderness I’ve ever heard anyone address me with, “I wanted us to happen so bad.”

My chest tangles with emotion, and I swing around. The depth of her eyes is endless. The way they stare right into me. I feel seen. Without reproach, disgust. I feel hungered for. Wanted in a way I have never, ever, been wanted.

“You think I didn’t?” I whisper in disbelief. “I’ve wanted us to happen since . . .” Heading back to bed, I can’t resist kissing her. “Every second I want us to happen.”

Three fingers touch my jaw, her gaze curious on my face. “Have you ever hurt someone?”

God damn I hate having to tell her this. I want to tell her I’m strong, fast, the strongest and the fastest. I don’t want to tell her I’m a fuckup. Dangerous. Volatile. Yeah, I’m a mess. But I’ve never been a liar. “I hurt everything I touch. I destroy things! That’s the only thing I’m good at. I’ve found whores in my bed I can’t remember bringing back with me and I’ve tossed them naked out of my hotel room, pissed like hell because I don’t remember what I did. I’ve stolen shit, vandalized shit, woken up in places I don’t even remember getting there. . . .” I drag a breath, then sigh. “Look, since Pete and Riley alternate days off, there’s always someone to knock me out for a day or two when I get out of hand. I hit a low, and then I’m back. Nobody gets hurt.”

“But you. Nobody gets hurt but
you
.” With a worried crease in her forehead, she takes my hand in hers, and I can’t believe how something smaller than you can give you such a great sense of well-being. “Remy, do they have to knock you out like that?” She laces her fingers through mine, and I glance down and stare at her. At that crease on her forehead. Those gold, gold eyes, worried for me in a way that’s so new to me, it’s almost amusing. But it’s not. I want her to know I’ve got this. She’s holding my hand, and I grip her tighter so that I’m the one holding her. I will always hold us both.

“Yes,” I say emphatically. I don’t care what Pete has to do, but I need to be kept in line, now more than ever. “Especially if I want . . . this . . .” Using my hand, I signal to her, then at myself. “I want this. Very badly.” Then I nuzzle her. “I’m trying not to fuck it up, all right?”

“All right.”

I kiss the back of her hand. “All right.”

BROOKE WAS MISSING her friend, so I decided to bring her up from Seattle. With some reluctance, I agreed she could go with Pete to pick up Melanie at the airport.

“Remy, you’re so good,” Brooke said, sloppy kisses all over my jaw, making me laugh. Yesterday I caught her and her best friend laughing, and Brooke made love to me all night. I’ve never been so connected to anyone in my life.

When I handed her one of the sedatives Pete and Riley use—because I want her to know how to put me down if she needs to—she wouldn’t so much as look at it.