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Charged (Saints of Denver #2) Page 66
Author: Jay Crownover

I moaned low and loud and was startled as the sexy sound reverberated around us as the ravine we were in echoed our pleasure and the sounds of our delight as we ravaged each other. I helped him wiggle his jeans down far enough that I could get at the goods, but not far enough that his knees were going to get torn up on the rough surface he was kneeling on. One of his hands found its way beneath the jacket and curled possessively around one of my bouncing breasts as I ground myself against his quick fingers and the hard ridge that was toying with my eager opening. Quaid knew exactly what I was chasing down as I moved on him wantonly and without shame, unafraid of the cold or the nothingness that surrounded our heaving bodies. He worked my clit until I was a blubbering and incoherent mess of need and want on top of him, his touch getting rougher and more firm the more wildly I moved and rocked on top of him.

I grabbed his pulsating cock from where it was hovering right beyond the point I wanted it most, and lifted up barely enough so that I could drag the bulbous and leaking tip through my soaked folds. We both let out a strangled sound at the sensation and his leisurely teasing of my clit intensified to the point that I thought I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t come soon. The sensation of his air-chilled skin sliding through our combined warmth had Quaid swearing and me whimpering in desperation.

I dug the fingers of my free hand into the side of his neck and was gratified to see his muscles straining and his veins popping as I continued to rub him through my wetness and tease him with my opening. The tip of his cock was more than wet; it was shiny and covered in both of our excitement. Personally, I thought I’d never seen any man or any man’s dick look better. Quaid looked sexy as hell covered in what he did to me. It made me moan out loud and did a lot to chase away the last of the chill lingering inside my bones. My body was doing its best to pull him inside, my inner walls quaking and clenching like they had been waiting for his cock and only his cock forever, like they were bereft and lonely without his powerful shaft to clamp down onto. I lifted up just a little so he was holding me to his chest and let that glistening and slippery rod coast through the crevasse where his curious fingers had been playing earlier. He could tease new and unexpected things, but so could I.

I watched his eyes widen and darken to almost navy blue as I wiggled my hips and rode him with a different, untried part of my body. We both started breathing harder and I could see the speculation and curiosity in his gaze. I liked the way he felt back there, liked the way I felt with him back there, so I made a mental note that executive sex had some really interesting things to offer that I was definitely missing with intern sex. Done with the heated and suggestive manipulation, Quaid tweaked the nipple he was playing with hard enough that it sent a jolt of pain shooting through my nerve endings. I jerked back from trying to eat his mouth with my own and gave him a scowl. His eyes had shifted from denim blue to a stormy slate and I could tell he was as done with the teasing as I was. His nimble fingers abandoned my desperate clit and shifted to the side of the panties that were once again soaking, only this time it was from desire and need and not the mountain water.

“You need to get one of the condoms I put in the pocket of my jacket and put it on me, right now.” I heard the sound of fabric tearing and a pop of elastic as the side of my panties gave way to the force of impatient hands and the slide of a chilly blade against my skin. I’d read about men ripping their women’s underwear off in the heat of the moment a million and one times, but I never thought I would be on the receiving end of the action or that the man doing the ripping would be someone like Quaid. He was a Boy Scout, always prepared, but I doubted getting women naked in the heat of passion was one of the uses that young scouts were taught when they were handed their Swiss Army knives. I admired in ingenuity and shivered at the thought that I was the one to make him let loose his uncivilized side, that I was the one that brought him back to his most primal self, almost had me coming all over the very rigid erection that I still had trapped between my legs.

My heart was kicking hard and fast in my chest as I stuck a hand in the pocket of his jacket that I still had on. “You brought condoms hiking?” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped with the question.

He grunted a noise at me and put a hand in the center of my back so that I could shimmy out of the tattered remnants of the underwear, and so that I could get a grip on his throbbing cock. I angled his erection away from where I wanted it most, enough to get the condom on him. His feathery eyelashes lowered as my fingers rolled the latex down over the stretched and silky skin.

“I went hiking with you, so of course I brought condoms. I would bring them with me if we were going to the grocery store, or to the post office. I would grab a handful of them if I was taking you to church. I told you …” My mouth fell open and my head fell backwards as he pushed against my hand and finally entered the opening in my body that was begging and weeping to be filled by him and him alone. “You make me desperate and needy. The time and place doesn’t seem to matter. The only thing that does is that you let me in.”

I was sitting on his lap, stretched wide open before God and country, and all I could think about was how sweet his words were as they drifted across my now flushed and rosy skin. He said all the right things as his body invaded and took me hard and fast. He spoke sweetly as he fucked me wild, and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop him from working his way even deeper into all those places inside of me he said he wanted to fill.

I was perched up on his legs in a way that kept my knees from dragging across the rough terrain he was kneeling on, so all I could do was hold on to his shoulders with one hand as he lifted me up and down on the straining shaft between us. I watched his thick cock, shiny and glistening with our combined pleasure, as it hammered in and out of my body. The deeper he pushed in, the darker the blue in his eyes got, and the wetter I became. It was more than fucking rough and uninhibited. It was a joining, a connection between us that went beyond the way my lower lips parted so prettily for him as he dragged almost all the way out and then used the leverage he had on me to haul me back down so that it was almost impossible to tell where either of us started or stopped. We were one being, intent on bringing each other pleasure. We were one essence, focused on taking what the other person was offering and giving it back to them a hundredfold. We were intent on undoing each other with passion and pleasure, and it really felt like we could mend the holes each of us had within us with the parts the other was leaving behind.

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Jay Crownover's Novels
» Charged (Saints of Denver #2)
» Built (Saints of Denver #1)
» Leveled (Saints of Denver #0.5)
» Honor (The Breaking Point #1)
» Better When He's Brave (Welcome to the Point #3)
» Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)
» Rule (Marked Men #1)
» Asa (Marked Men #6)
» Jet (Marked Men #2)