“Turned on,” she said, testing out the foreign phrase.
Tucker’s throat muscles worked. “You told me last night that you can cry if someone around you is sad. That you can experience someone else’s feelings. Is that what’s happening here?” He swiped a thumb over her nipple and she jerked, gasping. “Are you hot like this, because of…my needs?”
“No. I have to m-make an effort to feel energy. Especially with an immortal, I have to reach out. This is me.”
“God thank God. And also…wow. Holy shit.” He lifted her breast, kneading it lightly, a shudder passing through him. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
Sensation coursed through Mary, targeting her core, and she squeezed her thighs more tightly together. “I don’t know. Just touch me. Everywhere.”
In the snap of two fingers, Tucker was gone. His heat, his touch, his signature. Gone from the car. She whimpered in her throat, alarmed, turning her head right to left in an attempt to pick up his whereabouts, but there was nothing. Nothing until the passenger side door opened, her seatbelt was unclipped and she was hauled out of the car. There was no mistaking it was Tucker and she sobbed in relief, in need, letting herself be moved.
The car door closed and Mary’s back met the smooth surface, Tucker crowding her in from the front. Her butt was wedged against the lip of the closed window, toes a handful of inches from the ground, Tucker’s fingers plunging into her hair. Holding them close with foreheads pressed together. Overload. It was total overload, going from no touch to the most perfect kind. He was sturdy and hard and she’d been hungering for this all along, hadn’t she? Wanting to get closer again, like in the stairwell back home.
“We’re in a wooded area, off the two-lane highway,” he said, right against her mouth. “It’s dark, but you can’t see the sky because of the tree cover. The ground is all pine needles, clumps of hard snow here and there…”
Tucker kept going while her heart levitated.
He was describing their surroundings. Without her having to ask.
“Thank you.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Mary.” In conflict with his words, Tucker’s hips locked against hers and rocked, firmly enough for the car to sway, a violent tremor passing through him. “For so many reasons. You’re marrying someone else. You’re my…”
“I’m your what?”
“My passenger,” he croaked eventually. “God, I want you.”
“Your hands,” she laugh-whispered. “I need them on me.”
“And my mouth?” Their lips brushed. “I can kiss you?”
Wonder and excitement made her breath hitch. She’d been so focused on the ache in her breasts and womanhood, she hadn’t even stopped to consider kissing. But suddenly she couldn’t live without Tucker’s mouth moving on top of her own. It was essential. “Yes, please.”
Mary had always wondered what a sunrise looked like.
This was the closest she’d ever come before.
Tucker’s slanted lips parted over hers carefully, suctioning and slowly twisting upright, like a key turning in a lock and opening a door to some enchanted land. The night sounds amplified around them, along with the friction of their clothing, because once the kiss started, it became the only means of survival.
It was her first kiss and yet, somehow she knew Tucker hadn’t kissed a lot of women. His hands fumbled their way out of her hair to grip the roof of the car, followed by the sound of metal crunching. As if he’d been shocked to the core. He kissed her one way, pulled back, then tried another, either unable to make his mind up how best to taste her or wanting to kiss her in the way that was most pleasing to her. It endeared him to her even more. His lips were cool and yet they branded her in their urgency, his chest expanding as if it were filling with pressure until it pinned her to the car, along with his hips. A thick bulge touched down hesitantly to her mound, thrusting once, before Tucker dragged his lower body away with a ragged sound.
Mary wanted it back.
She knew exactly what that hard object between his legs was. Tilda might have kept her in the dark about a lot of things, but even her mother had explained the mechanics between male and female bodies. There were so many reasons she couldn’t join her body with Tucker’s, but she wanted him to be vulnerable with her. Ached for that intimacy with him.
But before Mary could voice her request to see him, all of him, Tucker slid his fingertips down her stomach, lifted the hem of her dress and cupped her between the thighs.
Mary’s cry echoed among the trees. And it grew louder when Tucker began massaging her flesh slowly and reverently through her panties, his hand so huge compared to her, there was no place left untouched. The friction was all over, the wet material dragging through the cleft of her sex, moving faster the more she encouraged him, opening her mouth and welcoming his tongue, giving him her own, mewling as they stroked, rubbing like two halves of a whole.