“What the hell part of back off don’t you understand?”
Remington opened the fucking door in just a sweater and white cotton briefs.
He pushed his way inside and collided with her like a freight train. He picked her up without missing a stride and kicked the door shut behind him.
This time, when he pinned her to the door with his hips, his mouth slammed into hers, sealing any protests, any smartass comments, any dirty talk between them.
That mouth. It had spent years tormenting him with smart comments and red lipstick. With fucking popsicles in the summer and chaste greetings where she pressed those lips to his and danced away again, daring him to grab hold and keep her there.
She didn’t melt against him. There was nothing soft and surrendering about her reaction. No, Remington Ford counterattacked. And when he forced his tongue into her mouth, and she let out a sexy little moan, he knew he was going to find out finally just how wet she got for him.
Tonight. Now. Finally.
He hadn’t earned her. He didn’t deserve her. But for once in his life, that wasn’t going to stop him from taking what he wanted. What he needed.
“Tell me what you want,” she whispered, squeezing those thighs around his waist like he was a mount she was urging faster. “Show me what I can give you.”
Eyes closed as he reveled in the feel of her against him, he shook his head. “It’s what I need, and if I told you everything I need to do to you, you’d run.”
“Try me.”
His shaft, nestled up against those fucking white panties, throbbed as pictures raced through his mind.
“I need to suck your nipples so long and so hard they get hard every time you see me.” The words came from a throat full of shards of glass. “I need to own your sweet pussy with my mouth and my dick. I need to know what it feels like to have you come on my hand, my tongue, my fucking cock. I need to come so deep inside you, you never stop feeling it.”
She trembled against him, shaking like she was cold. But everywhere he touched, her skin was hot.
“I need to bend you over and peel down those wet panties so I can turn your cheeks red with my hand.”
This was where she would laugh or cry. This was the part she would tell him he was sick. Even as he waited, holding his breath for the rejection, there was a powerful relief in finally putting the words out there. Finally releasing his secret.
She cut him off with her mouth. Pulling him down to her and kissing him like she was drowning and only he could save her. She trembled again, a full-body shiver that made him want to apologize for the confession even while he did every filthy thing he’d ever fantasized about to her.
Pulling back, she looked up at him, starry-eyed and stunned. “Yep. Let’s do that. All of it.”
He groaned.
“You don’t mean that, Remi.” She couldn’t mean that. She couldn’t understand what years of yearning would amount to if she gave him access to her body.
She lunged forward, her teeth caught at his bottom lip, and he tasted blood.
“This is where you tell me to walk away, Trouble,” he whispered.
Those heavy lids lifted, and beneath thick lashes, those green eyes looked into his fucking soul. Her hair was a tangle of rich, red fire in his fist. “You never listen to me when I tell you to leave me alone. Besides. This time it’s different. This time I’m saying yes to everything.”
He thrust his hips against her. She let out a silvery little gasp. Music to his fucking ears. “You aren’t hearing me. I want to use you, ruin you.”
“Then you better get started.” She wasn’t taunting him. The woman meant it.
“I’m fucking serious, Remington. If I start, I don’t know if I can pull myself back.” If he couldn’t control himself, he was no better than his father.
“I don’t want you to pull back. I want you to trust me to take it all.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The word echoed in his head as his blood pulsed painfully in his shaft.
Her lips parted as if she could feel him growing harder at just the thought.
As if the temptation of her pressed up against a wall panting wasn’t enough, her fingers closed around the low neck of her sweater and pulled down.
He was already a goner. He knew it. But that full, round breast with its perky nipple was the last kick in the balls he could take. He used one more short, hard thrust to hitch her higher. He was breathing like a horse after a long run as he leaned down. He ran his tongue over that pink peak in one long lick. Just that little taste sent electricity coursing through his body.
She felt it, too. Her gasp had his erection swelling impossibly bigger.
Desperation. It sunk its claws into him, drawing blood. He needed more. With one quick tug of her sweater, he bared both breasts.
She was perfection. Round and full and firm. Pretty pink nipples begging for his mouth. He treated them to what they craved, and when he’d bathed them both with the rough of his tongue, he sucked one point deep into his mouth. He suckled, drawing that tip deeper and lashing it with his tongue.
“Brick,” she hissed out his name as her fingers gripped his hair.
“Keep fucking breathing, baby doll.”
“Don’t fucking stop, please,” she begged, bucking against him.
He peeled her off the door and carried her toward the light. He wanted to see her. He wanted to memorize every moment of this night so he could carry it with him for the rest of his life.
She held his face in her hands as she kissed and bit his lips.
“Where’s your cast?” he asked between assaults.
“Gone today,” she murmured against his mouth. He regained control of the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth just like he planned to do to that wet, tight pussy she had for him.
God. There were so many things he wanted to do. Needed to do.
As if reading his mind, Remi pulled back and squeezed his cheeks in one hand. “This is the first time. Not the only time. Got it?”
He nodded, not trusting his own voice.
“Focus on what you need to do this time, then we’ll work our way around to all the want tos.”
“Promise me.” His voice was hoarse.
She looked surprised. “Promise you what?”
“That this is just the first time.” He needed that guarantee. Needed to know he could have her again.
Looking him in the eye, she tightened her legs around his waist. “I promise you, Brick. Don’t go slow. Don’t waste time trying to be romantic. I want you to take me like you can’t help yourself.”
She had no fucking idea.
“Do you understand the permission you’re giving me here?” he rasped. Half hoping she’d come to her senses. If she let him do this, how would he ever go back to the way it was?
“I do and I want it, too,” she whispered.
His balls fucking ached. Brick wasn’t sure he’d survive round one, let alone be physically capable of participating in round two. But damn it, he was going to try.
“Trust me. Show me what you like, Brick. Please.”
The whimpered please got him.
Their entire relationship played out on fast forward in his head. He thought of all the trouble. All the yearning. All the smart-mouthed comments and the teasing. So much fucking teasing.
He knew what he wanted to do first.
The dining table was empty. He put her down, and just as she started to pout, he spun her around and pressed a hand between her shoulder blades. He increased the pressure until she folded over the table, her breasts and face resting on the cool wood. She was up on her tiptoes, thighs spread for him.
Just having her in this position in front of him was doing terrible things to his blood pressure.
He kept one hand on her back and stared at those white panties as he loosened his belt.
She dragged in a shaky breath when the buckle jingled.
“Breathe, baby,” he ordered, yanking the belt through the loops with one quick pull. The end of the leather caught her on the back of the thigh as it shot free, and Remi let out a little gasp.
Dear God in heaven. She was pushing that sweet, round ass back against him as if she’d liked it. He couldn’t be that lucky. Brick Callan was not that lucky.
Carefully, he nudged one knee between her thighs and lowered his zipper. His cock, now only confined by his underwear, sprang free in relief. But he couldn’t afford to take it out yet. To grip his shaft and drag the tip of it over each ivory cheek. Not yet.
Giving in to the hypnotic taunting of her hips, he let himself grind against her. Once. Twice. Three times.
She was whimpering now, begging him for something she didn’t seem to know the words for.
Reverently, he traced his hand up the back of her knee, coasting up her thigh and over the curve of her behind.
“Remi,” he said, as he curled his fingers in the waistband of those virginal white briefs.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, please.”
He dragged her underwear down, baring her tight little ass.
He’d dreamed of this. Fantasized about it. Jerked off to it so many times it almost felt real. But the reality of Remi submitting to him, bent over a table, waiting for him to touch her was incomparable.
“Breathe, baby,” he said again. They both took a minute to catch their breath. The oxygen he sucked into his lungs was hot as his fingers gently trailed patterns over both her precious cheeks.
She was shaking hard.
“Are you scared? Should I stop?” he whispered, hinging over her to press a kiss to her neck.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she said, her voice as shaky as her legs.
“Tell me if it’s…too much.”
He rested his palm on one smooth cheek and waited until she’d taken a breath. Then he pulled his hand back and let it fly. The slap rang out in the silence of the room, chased by Remi’s sharp gasp. His palm stung pleasantly, and his cock jerked as her flesh jiggled from the blow. Her skin was pinking up like a pretty little blush.
Fuck. How would he ever go back now?
“Tell me what that one was for,” she whispered.
“What it was for?”
“Tell me what the punishment is for.”
Oh, God. He was a dead man. A fucking dead man.
“That was for smiling at my brother like you should have been smiling at me.”
She pressed her hips back, begging for more.
Slap.
It was harder, louder. And this time, she cried out.
“Brick!”
He’d landed the slap on the opposite cheek and watched in twisted pride as a handprint slowly bloomed into being.
He was so fucked.
“That was for making me wait years before letting me do this,” he growled, fisting his cock through his underwear and rubbing it over the spot he’d assaulted.
She bucked against him.
Slap.
“Yes!” she breathed against the table.
“For those goddamn shorts when you were seventeen and I couldn’t touch you.”
Again, he soothed the spot by grinding his erection against her pink skin.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
“Brick!”
His palm burned now. His ears rang with the siren song of his hand connecting with her flesh. And his blood was thundering through his veins.
“Are you sorry you said yes?” he whispered, sliding his stinging palm over her pink ass. Hoping, praying for the right answer.
“Never,” she whispered defiantly.
“Let’s find out,” he said.
Swiftly, he pulled her underwear back into place, hiding those sinful handprints. He shouldn’t feel good about putting marks on a woman. Yet seeing his own handprints visible on Remi’s flesh made his dick throb. Witnessing his brand on her awakened something raw, possessive, that had him by the throat.
She made a little whimper of disappointment and frustration when he stood her up and placed her on the table. Her face was flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. There were teeth marks in her lower lip. Her hair was a tangled mess of fire. And those tits. They had a siren’s song of their own, begging for his hands, his mouth.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted.
His erection rose to the challenge. “Not by a long shot, baby.”
“Then why did you stop?”
He forced her thighs wide and stared down between her legs. “To make sure you liked it.”
“I could have told you—”
Her annoyance cut off when his thumb slid over the inch-long wet spot he found on the front of her underwear. He felt like a goddamn caveman.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Is that for me?”
“It’s always for you.”
“Always?” He didn’t trust himself to look her in the eyes.
“Every guy I’ve been with was you when I closed my eyes,” she whispered. Jealousy and pride ripped through him, laying waste to any remaining chivalry. He wanted to be the only one.
“God damn it, Remi. You can’t like it,” he swore, even as he shoved his hand into her panties. “You can’t fucking let me do that to you.” He thrust one finger into her and growled when she sobbed out his name.
Not just damp. Wet. Soaking. Drenched.
Not just tight. Clenched. A slick vice, closing around his middle finger.
She spread for him, leaning back on her hands. “But I do,” she whispered. Even as she said the words, her walls rippled around his digit, and he went a little insane.
He added a second finger and fucked her as he thrust his cock against the soft flesh of her thigh. Her breasts were too much of a temptation. He couldn’t ignore them, so he dipped his head to taste each pink bud. To draw each one into his mouth and suck and lick and tease.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed. And just when he was sure he had the upper hand, she reached for the waistband of his underwear and freed his dick.
“Remi,” he gritted out her name when those small fingers finally closed around his shaft. He was pulsing in her grip, and if she moved that goddamn hand, he was going to come. To prevent that travesty, Brick closed a hand over hers and held her still while he sucked her nipples into diamond-tipped points.
She moaned when her thumb swept over the sensitive slit in his tip. He was leaking like a fucking colander, and she was spreading the moisture over the rest of his crown.
He only had one course of action here. One way to distract her from making him come.
Keeping his hand over hers, he pumped his fingers into her tight channel and used his thumb to find that delicate bundle of nerves between the lips of her sex.
“Ride my hand now, Remi,” he ordered.
She did as she was told. A miracle in itself. Just like the one unfolding inside her. “Brick! I need…” She didn’t finish her sentence. Remi was too busy shaking against him, whimpering as earthquake tremors wracked her beautiful body. The picture she made when she let go and flew into her release was stunning. Unforgettable.
What happened inside her was magic. Her walls closed around his fingers so hard he was ravenous to feel the same on his dick. Closing and releasing. Rippling around him as her orgasm rolled on. She shook with pleasure while he watched, witnessing every wave that crashed over her. It was a privilege making Remington Ford come.
She clung to him with her free hand as she writhed against him, around him. It went on and on, and when those bottle green eyes finally opened again, they were glassy and unseeing.
He snatched her off the table and carried her, warm and pliant in his arms, to the bedroom.
There were so many ways he wanted to take her. He wanted to turn her ass pink and then sink between her legs as she came up on her tiptoes to take him. He wanted to fuck her against a wall so she had no escape from his hard thrusts. He wanted her to ride him on the couch, legs spread wide over his lap, his mouth on her breasts.
But this first time, he wanted to see everything.
“How conventional,” she teased as he lay her on the bed. “I took you for a bend a girl over the arm of a couch kind of man.”
“Give me time.”
All humor disappeared when he slid his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear and shucked them off. Remi looked dazed as his erection stood tall and proud like a warrior.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” he said grimly as he climbed onto the mattress between her legs, encircling her delicate ankles with his palms.
