Page 36 of Fighting Fire

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His tousled hair lifted in the breeze, dislodging a lock that had fallen over his forehead. She steadied herself on his shoulders and her fingers flinched at the contact.

“Sean, you’re burning hot.”

Her hand slowly caressed his throat, then his face. She explored the bones of his jaw and his cheekbones with the tips of her cool fingers.

He sighed at her touch, closing his eyes and pressing his face against her soft belly. She battled for air, feeling as if her heart were seizing her chest.

She felt wild and frantic, teetering on the very edge of sanity. His cheek was rough against the skin of her belly.

Grasping her ankle, he ran his hand up until he slid between her thighs. Forcing them apart, he pressed his face against her mound. She shuddered and cried out.

Her hands threaded through his hair, clutching tightly as he pressed his mouth against the tender, moist folds inside the nest of curls. He tasted her, absorbing the cry that shivered through her body.

He came to his feet, his chest heaving. Clasping her shoulders, he turned her around, gently biting her shoulder blade, deftly unclasping her bra. He slipped the scrap of lace off her shoulders and down her arms. His hands slid back up her rib cage to cup her breasts in his hands.

She twisted in his arms, and he leaned down to take one of her beckoning nipples. His hand grabbed her wrist and guided it to his cock.

“Touch me, Lana.”

“How? Show me.”

He directed her hand up and down on his shaft in long, hard pulls. He slid her palm around the head, moistening it with a pearly drop of pre-come so that her hand could slide up and down the length of him, slick and silky.

He moved to the other nipple. “Use both hands,” he said roughly before taking her nipple into his mouth. He groaned when she gripped him with rough eagerness.

“I like it hard,” he urged.

“I like it hard, too,” she whispered against his ear. Lana made a purring sound, increasing her tempo and dragging a groan of pleasure out of him. His hands roamed over her eagerly, skimming her soft swells and dips and curves.

With hard, bold strokes, she was drawing him dangerously close to the brink, and how she reveled in her power over him. He had never demanded like this from her, and she wanted him to overpower her.

He shoved her back, lifting her up against the rough wall.

She held on to his shoulders for balance. She moaned, almost inaudibly, as he kissed her neck, trailing the tip of his tongue over her damp skin.

Her gaze locked with his as he slid a finger inside her sheath, testing her. He withdrew his finger slowly and circled it around her rosy, swollen nub. “You like that?”

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her hips jerking against his hand. “Yes,” she gasped out.

“You liked touching my cock?” he persisted.

Her hips pulsed eagerly as he slid his finger in and out of her.

He took a moment to grab up is jeans and get a condom, which he swiftly rolled onto himself, lifting her legs and opening her thighs.

She braced her hands, holding herself upright, watching him, her soft thighs open for him to take what he wanted.

He pushed into her with one slick, seamless thrust.

His whole body clenched, and he lifted her up against him, still thrusting.

Lana cried out. He twisted and they sank into the bed of flowers deep in the English garden he so loved.

He buried his fingers in her satiny hair and kissed her, a greedy kiss.

She twined her arms around his neck, her hips urging him to move, her body arching and begging beneath him.

Lana moaned softly, her hips bucking as he slid down the length of her body. He pressed her legs toward her chest opening her. She muffled the shocked cry of pleasure as he drew the swollen center of her pleasure into his mouth.


Tags: Zoe Dawson Romance