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“No. My first name. I’ve never heard you say it.”

She blinked, and the lust raging in her eyes merged with a tenderness that made me want to hand her the keys to my soul.

“Hudson,” she whispered.

I groaned. What was it about the sound of my name on her lips that made me harder? More desperate to find out what her skin tasted like?

This time when she gently pulled on my neck, I lowered my head, bringing my mouth within reach of hers.

“Kiss me, Hudson,” she whispered against my lips.

I took her mouth in a long, drugging kiss, tangling my hand in the loose silk of her hair and my tongue with hers. She tasted even sweeter than I remembered.

She whimpered, tugging me closer until there were no spare inches between us, and the angle of our kiss bent my neck like a contortionist. I kissed her over and over, losing myself in the feel of her tongue, her curved waist under my hand, her breaths coming in stuttered gasps.

When she tugged again, trying to get a closer that didn’t exist, I let my hand drift to the curve of her ass, and waited for any sign of protest. When she only moaned, I squeezed the plump, round flesh, which only made her moan louder.

“Damn, Shea,” I muttered, then lifted her so I could kiss her at my level. She wrapped her legs around my waist, sank both of her hands in my hair where it curled at the nape of my neck, and then took my mouth as her own.

Her tongue was fire, burning me alive as she explored with little flicks and strokes, learning me the same way I’d already made a study of her.

She flat-out branded me, and I loved it.

I took back control, angling to kiss her deeper, holding her tighter to my body. She rubbed her breasts against my chest, seeking out friction that I was more than happy to give. Without breaking our kiss, I walked forward, then turned and sat in the middle of the couch, arranging her knees so she straddled me.

As she slid into my lap, her breath exhaled on a long sigh, her eyes both widening and turning a darker silver as she felt my erection pressing against her. I wanted her. There was no hiding that fact, and if it was too much, if it scared her, then it was better to know that now.

She rested her forehead against mine, as both of our hearts hammered a furious beat.

“You’re in control,” I assured her.

She took my lower lip in a long, sipping kiss. “What if I want to lose control?”

My dick jumped at the thought.

She flat-out fucking rubbed against me, her barely-there shorts doing nothing to block the heat her sweet body was putting off.

Her breath caught, and she rubbed again, letting a delicious moan slip free.

“God. Por—Hudson...that feels so good,” she moaned.

I gripped her hips, and instead of waiting for her to move, I slowly thrust up against her, using my cock and the seam of her shorts to elicit another moan from her.

I hadn’t dry-humped a girl since high school, but I would happily consider it my job to do nothing but that for the rest of my life if I had Shea in my arms.

“Hudson, please,” she pled, shifting her hips restlessly in my lap.

“What do you want, Shea?” I asked, barely recognizing the gravel in my voice.

“I don’t know,” she replied, frustration obvious in her tone.

Her hips swiveled above mine again, and I groaned. I knew exactly what her body wanted. It wanted me to unzip my jeans, free my cock, slip her shorts and panties to the side, and plunge inside her. Her body wanted to be filled, stroked over and over until all that pleasure peaked and she came so hard the entire apartment building would hear.

But what her mind wanted was a completely different situation, and I had a feeling she was more frustrated with the schism in herself than anything else.

I kissed her, thrusting my tongue rhythmically into her soft mouth the way I wanted to move inside her heat.

My control was on a tight but thin leash as she ground against me, taking my kiss, and giving back just as good as she got.

When this woman finally let go, she would be fire incarnate, and even though I suspected she might leave her share of scars on me, I was more than willing to let her.

Her hands drifted to my shoulders, squeezing the muscles there before drifting to my biceps and grinding down on my cock. “You’re huge...everywhere.”

“I’m proportionate,” I argued.

“That’s pretty much what I said,” she managed to say between kisses and gasps.

“Does it scare you?” I needed to know. Had to know.

“No,” she admitted. “I trust you.”

I nearly came right then and there.

“Fuck, Shea. I know you’re not ready for sex.” Even if her body was screaming for it. “You’re burning me alive.”

“I…” She swallowed. “You’re right. I just. God, I can’t ever remember feeling like this. I don’t think I’ve ever been this…” She licked her kiss-swollen lips, and it took everything in me not to kiss her senseless, until her mind gave in to the demands of her body.

“Turned on?” I supplied.

“Desperate,” she whispered, her eyes taking me in like I was something to be devoured.

It made me want to flip her to her back and show her exactly what being devoured was like.

Why the fuck not?

I gripped her ass and rocked up against her again, going slowly until her head fell back and she groaned low in her throat. That’s where my lips went next, to her neck, sucking the tender patches of skin and then kissing my way to her collarbone, left bare by the V-neck shirt she wore.

When I kissed the curves of her breasts, she grasped my head and tugged me closer. “God, yes.”

I lightly bit her pebbled nipple through the fabric of her shirt, and she cried out, so I gave the same attention to the other.

“Hudson, I’m dying.”

“You’re living,” I corrected her. Her body filled my hands, supple, soft, her temperature elevating with her pulse. “Let me make you come,” I begged against her breasts.

She whimpered, her grip turning almost painful in my hair.

“I won’t even remove a stitch of my clothing,” I promised. “Just let me take away your ache.”

Our eyes locked, need and something else...something sweeter and deeper passed between us.

“Let me show you how good we could be if you gave us a chance.”

She nodded slowly.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

A smile spread on her face. “I trust you,” she repeated.

&nb

sp; “You’re in control,” I reiterated, needing her to know that I might hold her body, but she held the leash.

She nodded.

“You’ll stop me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m already uncomfortable,” she declared, rubbing down on my cock again, making us both moan.

“Damn it, Shea, I’m doing my best here to go slowly. Now tell me you understand,” I bit out, my hands gentle on her breasts, at odds with my tone. I rolled and pinched her nipples, and she nodded.

“I’ll tell you. Just, God, Hudson. Please…”

Permission asked for and received.

I flipped her in one smooth motion, so it was her ass on the couch, and I slid to my knees in front of her.

Our kiss was molten, hotter than anything I’d ever experienced. It went beyond pleasurable to primal—necessary.

My fingers found the snap on her shorts, and I undid them, pausing to watch her reaction.

Her eyes showed a flash of nervousness, but she lifted her hips, letting me unzip the tiny things and slide them down her thighs.

“These are so fucking small.”

“They’re mid-thigh,” she argued.

“Well, these thighs have driven me mad all night,” I said against the soft skin above her knee. Then I took my lips higher and higher, hooking my hands under said thighs and gently parting them wider.

“Hudson,” she gasped as my tongue swirled over her inner thigh, running along the seam where skin met her—holy fuck me—black lace panties.

“Trust me?” I questioned, fully intent on stopping if she changed her mind.

“Yes.” Her nails bit into my scalp for emphasis.

Those beautiful, sexy, incredible panties came off, too, landing somewhere in the vicinity of her shorts.

“God. Damn.” I breathed in and out, pressing my dick into the base of the couch to keep control. “You’re… God Damn, Shea.”

Her thighs were smooth, creamy, and led to a sexy strip of hair that matched the auburn on her head. She was fire everywhere, and mine. All. Fucking. Mine.

I reached for her hips, my hands gripping the pale flesh roughly, and pulled her straight to my mouth.

Shea cried out as my tongue hit her clit.

“Stop?” I asked.

“Are you crazy?”


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Seattle Sharks Romance