His head came up and their gazes connected, snatching her out of this moment and tossing her headfirst into something much darker and needier. Passion ruled here, and the man soothing her with long sweeping kisses along her neck couldn’t compete with the man at her feet.
The tumble all the way into love was fast, the ground flying up to meet her. She couldn’t have stopped it if she tried.
Spencer lowered his face to her again and she rocked her hips, her eyes sliding closed when the silken heat of his tongue drove deep. Vaguely she registered Paul’s hands closing over her breasts. He circled his palms, providing welcome friction to the sensitive tips.
She wanted to keep this going, to somehow stave off the liquid pleasure coiling in her belly. Because if she didn’t, Spencer would stop and this unbelievable wordless connection between them would break. If she could only hold on just a bit longer, if she could manage to still her quaking thighs and subdue the furious pounding of her clit, she could make it last.
Spencer sealed his lips around her aching flesh and pulled, shoving two fingers into her at the same time. She fell back against Paul, her breath escaping in a gasp, her nails dragging along Spencer’s scalp as she struggled to keep him right where he was.
“Don’t. Don’t leave me.”
He was already rising, his face constricted with longing. And something else much more alarming. Possession. The kind that didn’t brook sharing, no matter the reason.
The light flashed over him, highlighting his wet and used mouth. But it was his expression that made her whimper as his gaze dropped to Paul’s hands, still manipulating her breasts. Then he looked at Paul. He didn’t need words, because his look conveyed a clear warning.
Back the fuck off.