“This isn’t—”
I spun her quickly, pulling her ass to my pelvis and putting my mouth to her ear. “I know, I know. But I can’t see you in this dress and not touch you. You’re killing me.”
“I’m completely covered,” she murmured, a smile lifting her lips.
“You look like a fucking goddess, and I can’t wait to peel this dress off you.” I nipped her earlobe and she moved to the music, sliding down my body in a way that had me hard in less time than it took her to work her way back up.
This woman was driving me to madness. I wanted her. I needed her. And I didn’t mean just sexually. I adored everything about her, and it wasn’t just because of Skye. Fiona intrigued me, questioned me, supported me, and honestly…she was too damned good for me. She was a fucking doctor. She should be holding down a therapist job instead of helping me out, and yet she stayed.
Everyone in my life walked out at their earliest convenience, and yet…she stayed.
“Fiona,” I growled as she ground against me, her wings the only barrier that kept me from tilting her head and kissing her senseless. “I can’t think when I’m around you.”
She turned, and I barely avoided getting smacked with said wings. Her arms twined around my neck and her soft breasts pressed against my chest. “Feeling is mutual. I say we stop thinking.”
She brushed her lips over mine.
A groan rumbled in my chest.
Fuck the prying eyes. Fuck the rumors of us dating. Fuck…everything. I wanted her.
Pinning her hips to mine with one hand and cradling the back of her neck with my other, I pulled her into a kiss that devoured us both.
It was teeth and tongue, heat and need as we lost ourselves in the driving beat and each other’s taste. Her tongue twined with mine and I didn’t even give a shit if I was coming out of this with pink lip gloss all over my mouth. It would mark me as hers as surely as this moment was marking her as mine in the eyes of my entire team.
The song changed, and still we kept going, our mouths fused as our bodies moved to the beat, moving against each other with all the intensity of a good fucking with all of our clothes intact.
My hand slid from her hip to the slit in her dress, and I caressed the bare skin of her upper thigh.
She moaned.
“I need you,” I groaned.
“Take me home,” she ordered.
I obeyed.
12
Fiona
Steam billowed around us in the shower, the water hot and slick against our bodies. Brogan gripped my chin, tilting it so I was forced to look up at him.
His eyes were hard, hungry, and saw right down to the center of me. I was speared by the intensity of his gaze, wholly consumed by that look alone. He raked his gaze down my body, holding me captive with just his hands. He wet his lips, his eyes trailing the beads of water that ran down my breasts, over my peaked nipples, and lower.
“It’s a shame,” he said, his voice low and rough as he looked down at me.
“What is?” I breathed, my entire body coiled like a tight spring. I wanted his kiss, wanted to feel the sting of his fingers all over me.
“That a demon like me is going to ruin an angel like you.”
I trembled at his words. “What if I want to be ruined?”
Something flickered in his gaze, and then he hauled me closer with that hand at my jaw. “Beg for it.”
A lick of flame snaked down the center of me at the demand in his tone. Every inch of me responded to the dominance in it.
“Ruin me,” I breathed.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, but he kept that grip on my chin, using his free hand to trace the trails of water running down my body. The touch was too light for my sensitive flesh, and it was nowhere near where I needed him to be. I’d wanted him all night, each kiss only winding up my need that much more. And he knew it. He owned it and delighted in torturing me.
He traced a circle around my peaked nipple before pinching it lightly. I gasped, arching into the touch, needing more, more, more. Brogan drew back, then spun me around with a simple move of his hand, lining my spine up against his massive chest. I could feel the hard length of him pressed against my backside and whimpered as I ground against it.
“Keep begging,” he demanded, moving his hand from my chin to my neck as he kissed and nipped at my shoulders.
“Please,” I said, and moving my hips again in a desperate attempt to get him where I was aching for him. “Ruin me, Brogan,” I begged.
Another satisfied growl vibrated through him, and he ran his free hand down my chest, over my breasts, and slowly over my stomach. I held my breath as he poised his fingers over the apex of my thighs.
“Good,” he said into my ear, and warm shivers danced along my skin. Everywhere he touched was fire, every cascade of water slicking between our bodies was liquid heat.
He slid those fingers down, straight through the heat of me, and plunged them inside me. I gasped, my hands flying up and behind me to grab his neck, needing to hold on to him while he pumped his fingers in and out. I rocked against them, chasing that release that had been coiling inside me since he started this game.
“Brogan,” I groaned as he playfully bit my neck, then licked and kissed it, working his way up to that spot behind my ear that drove me wild. “Oh, God—”
“Demon,” he cut me off, pressing the heel of his hand against my clit as he pushed deeper inside me.
And I came completely apart, clenching around his fingers as he pushed me over the edge I’d been dancing on all night. Relief barreled through me, but I’d barely caught my breath before he slipped his fingers from me and replaced them with is cock.
“Brogan!” I gasped, taking him into the hilt from behind.
He shifted us, one hand still on my neck, the other on my hip until I was almost pressed against the warm shower wall. Water sprayed us, making me so slick and sensitive every thrust felt that much hotter.
“Fuck,” he growled, slamming into me from behind. “Fiona,” he groaned, pulling all the way out only to thrust all the way in again. “You’re amazing,” he said, slowing his pace, torturing me with each long stroke.
My palms smacked against the wall as I arched backward, taking him in harder, faster.
The grip on my throat tightened, sending a flare of carnal heat down my spine. “You want harder, angel?” he asked at my ear, taking it between his teeth.
“Yes,” I begged. I wanted him to devour me, consume me until there wasn’t a coherent thought left in my head.
The hand on my hip slid upward, palming one breast, then the other, before trailing back down to stroke my clit while he pumped inside me.
“How hard?” he teased, pulling all the way out again.
I groaned, frustration curling up inside me. But no one had ever matched Brogan’s intensity before. No one had ever understood me or played to my desires as he had before, so I would take every ounce of beautiful torture he dished out. Because he was so beyond worth it.
“As hard as you’ve got, Demon,” I teased right back, and he went still behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder, letting him see the unflinching want and desire in my eyes. We may be dancing around what exactly was happening between us, but this? Right here? I couldn’t hide from him, and I sure as hell didn’t want to. I’d never let anyone see me the way Brogan did, and I was beyond caring what that meant. All I knew was I wanted him on every level a person could want someone else, and he deserved to see that, to feel it.