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Better When He's Brave (Welcome to the Point #3) Page 43
Author: Jay Crownover

“You’re so gorgeous. You feel even better than you look. Do you know that?” There wasn’t a lot of room down there since I still had my jeans on and his hands were big, but his words made me clench around him and move even harder on his swirling fingers. The pleasure was tight, so tight and so full it felt like it didn’t fit inside of my body. It needed to get out.

I curled the fingers of one hand into the corded muscles at the base of his neck and locked the other in the hair at back of his head. It was surprisingly soft. Probably the only thing on him that was. I threw my head back so that it thumped against the window when his thumb suddenly landed with precision on my clit. Every nerve in my body went tight and I felt my blood start to rush around between my ears as desire started to bleed from every pore.

“Titus.” His name was a plea to give me more or give me less. I needed one or the other if I was going to make it out of this alive.

He moved his leg higher into the apex of my legs and the motion shoved my breasts even tighter against his chest. He still had his T-shirt on but the friction of the cotton against the aching peaks was enough to make me gasp his name again. He grinned at me and it wasn’t very nice. His eyes were hot enough to brand scars where they raked over me, and I thought I was going to pass out when he added another finger to the sexual games he was playing with my body. The walls of my sex clenched in automatic response against the fullness and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer under the sensual assault.

“Are you done, Reeve? Is this as much as you can take? I always want more, there is always so much more.”

His voice sounded like sandpaper as he lowered his face and sank his teeth into the skin at the side of my neck. It felt amazing and the scrape of his beard across my tender skin made it even better. I wanted to know what it would feel like lower. I lowered my hand from his hair and put it on his cheek. I waited until he lifted his head up and met my gaze. He turned his wrist at the same time and I almost shattered under the sensation. I wasn’t sure what kind of battle of wills we were engaged in, but I knew if I didn’t hold out for the rest of what he had, I was never going to get all that was Titus King.

So I simply told him what he needed to hear. “It’s okay, Titus. Give me all you got. I want more.”

It was the green light he needed. Suddenly he was everywhere. His mouth biting, sucking each aching nipple into his mouth. His hands working feverishly to get the rest of my clothes out of his way without separating us. I had to admire the sheer strength it took to hold me up and pull my clothes off at the same time. I heard the leather of his belt slip free and suddenly a heavy wallet was in my hand. I looked at it in confusion while he wrestled his shirt off over his head with one hand. I couldn’t make words work anymore.

“Condom. Find it.”

“What?” Seriously I was struck dumb by the sight of him. He was beautiful. He was a warrior. He was a man made to fight, to win. He was big and hard. He was cut and defined. He was powerful and massive in a way that made me feel unbelievably delicate and feminine. He was all that a man should be and then some and there was never going to be anyone that would ever compare. He was going to ruin me in both the good and the bad ways.

“I bought a couple of rubbers last time I was at the gas station because I can’t get you off my fucking mind, and I like to be prepared. Find one.”

He sounded like a caveman and I kind of liked it. I also liked the light brush of his happy trail as he pressed his pelvis into mine. The long length of his cock rubbed against me as he pulled his zipper down and leaned farther into me. I found the foil packet and tore it open with my teeth after tossing the wallet to the floor.

“Hurry.” He sounded like he was on the brink, so I grasped the heavy shaft and rolled the latex down. He jerked at my touch and the power of that was so intoxicating I leaned forward and sealed my mouth back over his. He responded by wrapping one of his bandaged hands around my breast and squeezing it tight.

It wasn’t until the tip of him slid in, stretched me, burned a trail that felt like heaven and hell combined that I realized I was bare-assed and the tint on the windows was still turned off. Anyone looking close enough up at the complex would get a clear view of the debauchery currently happening between me and the hot cop.

“Titus . . .” I wanted to tell him we had to move. That we needed to stop for just a second, but he just grunted and thrust his hips hard so that we were joined all the way together, our pelvises aligned so there was no him and there was no me, there was just us. And we were so in tune with each other, so hungry for one another, I forgot what I was going to say.

He put a hand under my backside and tilted my hips more toward him. He nuzzled his face in the curve of my neck so every grunt, every pant, every whispered curse drifted through my ear like a promise. He put his other arm on the glass over my head for leverage and then proceeded to fuck me into oblivion.

Our chests rubbed together. Our bodies writhed and grinded against each other. I felt him tense and flex inside of my own and I felt the way my body responded to him. I was flushed and sweaty. I was wet and burning. Everywhere we touched felt fused together and I never wanted it to end. Suddenly the hand he had been using to hold me up vanished from my ass and showed back up between my legs. How he knew just where to touch, how he knew just how much pressure to add, I would never know. But he worked me over like a pro and it felt so good it hurt too much to hold back anymore.

I broke apart. Shattered like glass and he watched me the entire time. When I was stuck, captured and panting, he ran his fingers, wet from my own desire, up the center of my chest and used them to wrap lightly around my throat. It made me open my eyes wider and he just grinned at me. I had told him I wanted it all, but he didn’t squeeze, didn’t tighten his grip. He just left his fingers there as he pounded into me, rutting and thrusting like the beast he had released.

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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)