“That was fast.”
Royce grinned, reaching for her. “I didn’t want to give you time to change your mind.” Her body swayed closer of its own accord and their lips met. The spark she’d been fighting for days immediately burst into a full-blown conflagration of desire.
Groaning, she gripped his broad shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. Royce’s erection pressed against her groin, sending her higher. She was ready for him, her core clenching as she imagined him inside her.
Royce dragged his tongue along her lips and as she opened for him, Briar’s entire body practically screamed. Yes, yes, yes.
Hot water streamed around them, the small room filling with steam as they went at each other, sucking and tasting—inhaling. Royce tasted like the coffee they’d had earlier, which she hadn’t realized was a turn-on for her until now. She did her best to steady herself by holding onto the man but, fuck, whether from the desire or the day’s exhausting pace, her knees were weak.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” Royce murmured as he nuzzled her neck, his beard scruff sending shivers across her skin. His deft fingers, remarkably gentle, trailed down her ribcage and outward, toward the base of her spine.
Briar knew she wasn’t beautiful, but she wasn’t going to argue with him—although perhaps he needed his eyes checked later. Royce’s attention made her feel beautiful and that was what mattered. He continued to map out her body, large hands briefly cupping her ass before rising and cradling her head still so he could thoroughly plunder her mouth.
“You’re not too shabby yourself,” she countered as she pulled back for air and so she could see him better. There was a lot to enjoy about Royce King.
His body was lean but muscled, making Briar think he was probably a runner like she was. He had the usual collection of scars from living life, but there was one larger one that slashed across his pec from his upper shoulder.
She traced it with her index finger, curiosity momentarily overriding lust. “I didn’t think you were in combat as a CI.”
He looked down at his chest, eyelids at half-mast in a deceptively sleepy expression, almost as if he was so used to seeing the jagged scar that he’d forgotten about it. “I was in combat zones, Afghanistan the longest. But you’re right, I wasn’t in combat except when soldiers got unruly. And believe me, when you’re trying to take a SEAL into custody, things can get hairy. A guy caught me with a Ka-Bar, sliced right through my armor.”
“You were lucky.”
“I didn’t feel lucky at the time, and it took three of us to haul this guy in, he was so fucked up. But enough about the past, I want more of you now. What do you think about taking the rest of this conversation to my bedroom?”
Briar arched an eyebrow, running her tongue across her bottom lip. “Are you going to show me your etchings?”
“I’m gonna show you my big gun.”
A laugh bubbled up as Royce pulled her hips against his so she’d know exactly what big gun he was talking about—and Briar didn’t want to wait any longer.
“Quit stalling, big guy,” she said with a grin, grinding back against his perfectly proportioned erection.
But Royce started kissing her again, so it was a hot minute before they turned off the shower water—which had started to run cold anyway—and hastily dried themselves off, leaving the now damp towels in the same pile as her clothing. Briar had the passing thought that she might start to feel awkward about jumping into bed with a guy she’d only really known for a couple of days. This was not like her. But there was no awkwardness, just a burning desire to wrap herself around Royce and have her way with him.
And visa-versa, of course, although Briar wasn’t sure they’d have any energy left by then.
Royce’s bedroom had the most personality of the entire house, but Briar didn’t care at the moment. She could check his room out later. It was the oversized king bed that grabbed her attention. She paused and Royce pressed his body against her back.
“Lay back on the bed so I can eat you better,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, sending another wave of shivers up her spine.
Turning, Briar settled back on the mattress. “The romantic things you say.”
“This is just the beginning, you have no idea how much romantic poetry I have saved up. Scoot toward the pillows.”
Briar scooted as Royce followed her onto the bed and poised for a moment between her raised knees before he leaned in and used his tongue and fingers to send Briar to the stars. She’d been ready before, wet, throbbing, and needy—the man could kiss, just the way she loved it—but this was another level of want. Royce used the very tip of his tongue to torment her swollen clit and one finger to trace her folds and tease inside, where the pressure wasn’t quite enough.
“Royce…” Briar panted, grabbing a fistful of the sheets as her hips jerked upward.
“Mm,” he said with what she thought was feigned innocence.
Briar lifted her hips, hoping he’d take the hint and cover her body with his. She was ready to feel him inside her. Instead, her entire body shuddered as Royce dragged his evil tongue from her clit to her entrance and back again, twisting his finger inside her, finding a sensitive spot she hadn’t known existed until this moment.
“Royce!” she cried out, letting go of the sheet to grab the top of his head and hold him in place. The slippery sensation she’d been chasing since he got in the shower with her turned into something more insistent, more urgent. Shamelessly, she ground herself onto his tongue, his lips, his face, the rasp of his whiskers adding to her pleasure instead of taking away from it.
“Oh my god.” Orgasm shot through her, reverberating as Royce’s tongue continued its gentle destruction of her defenses.
A condom dropped onto the bed next to her. “Yeah?”