“Lydia.” Groaning, he bumped into the bedroom door and slapped a hand along the wall, hunting for a light switch.
“The table.”
He knocked over a slew of shit in his path and wiped out everything on the nightstand in his quest to find the bulb. “How do I turn the damn thing on?”
She laughed against his mouth. Then she threw back her head and laughed harder, the musical sound alive with relief and breathy with need.
He tossed her onto the bed and focused on the lamp. There. He caught the chain and yanked.
A dim glow illuminated the small, spartan room. Curtains blacked out the single window. No adjoining bathroom. No pictures on the walls. No knickknacks. Just a bed and the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen sprawled atop it.
Red hair. Natural red on her head and between her legs. Porcelain complexion, almost flawless, save for the freckles that speckled her brow and nose. Without the makeup and the wigs and evocative clothing, she looked outrageously innocent and young.
“How old are you?” He feathered his fingers up her calf, shaking with the force of his desire.
She shivered. “Twenty-seven.”
“I’m eleven years older than you.”
“Afraid you can’t keep up with me?” She stared up at him, panting, her sea-green eyes dazed and hooded, and her lips… Sweet hell, those full, fuckable lips pouted as she opened her legs, taunting him. “Let’s go, old man.”
“Shut the fuck up and let me look.” He sat back on his heels and soaked in the sensual lines of her body.
She arched into a sensuous stretch that mounted the pounding in his blood. She was perfect. So painfully, insanely gorgeous.
“You’re stunning. Jesus. You’re always beautiful, but this face…” He trailed a knuckle along her graceful jawline. “Your real face shines in breathtaking contrast to the one you paint on.”
“Cole.” She reached out a hand and scissored her legs back and forth, restless, needy.
He caught her fingers, entwining them with his. Until her eyes widened.
“Oh, my God.” With a gasp, she sat up, her attention locked on his new tattoo. “You removed her?”
“I didn’t belong to her.” He met her riveting gaze. “I belong to someone else.”
He twisted his arm, showing her the red swallow caught in the serpent’s deadly clutch.
Her hand fell to the bird on her chest, and little ruts formed between her brows. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you hate it?”
She shook her head, slowly at first, then faster, harder, her eyes tearing up. “I love it.”
His chest lifted, soaring. “Lie back.”
As she relaxed into the bed, he followed her down, sliding over her and dwarfing her tiny frame. She hooked her legs around him, and their lips came together.
And their bodies.
For the first time, he felt her skin flush with his, the soft warmth of her nudity rubbing and quivering beneath him.
With a shaky hand, he reached between them, cupping her, watching her eyes. Long, auburn eyelashes fluttered closed. Warm, supple, soaked flesh welcomed his caresses. He traced his fingertips around her opening, evoking short rapid inhalations on her cherry red lips.
Passionate woman.
So easily aroused.
“Cole, please.” She lifted her hips, wriggling, demanding.
He swatted her thigh, chastising her for her impatience. But his own was just as bodacious.
Shifting down her body, he pushed the bedding away, freed her legs, and opened her wide. She shuddered, whimpered, and reached for her clit. Such a shameless, wanton creature.
He knocked her touch away. “My hands are no longer tied, Lydia. I command. You obey.”
“Even with your hands restrained, you were always the one in command.”
The throbbing stiffness of his cock demanded he do dirty, dirty things. From the moment he’d met her, he fantasized about eating her, front to back, inside and out.
“How many cocks have been here after me?” He speared his thumbs into her pussy and spread apart her needy flesh.
“I’ve never been one to abstain. I gave away my virginity at a young age and…” She stroked a hand through his hair, blushing. “I just really love sex. But since I met you, I’ve found something I love more.” She shrugged. “I’m in love with love.”
He grinned. “That’s a pretty drastic leap from There is only war, and that is always fueled by hate.”
“I’ve taken a lot of leaps recently.” She slid her fingers down his face. “I’m on birth control, and I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
The tension in his shoulders loosened. “You’re the only woman I’ve touched in eight years.”
“Why?”
“I was waiting for something extraordinary.” He glided his thumbs up and down in opposing directions, working her tight little pussy into a sticky, squelching suction of need. “I was waiting for you.”
Her breaths punched out in disbelieving rasps as her fingers threaded through his hair. “You’re making me really, really fucking hot, Cole. If you don’t put something inside me, I’m legit going to die.”
Gazes locked, he flashed her a grin. Then he buried his face between her legs.
She cried out. Spasms rippled against his tongue, drenching her with more heat and saturating his beard. Her heavenly taste flooded his mouth, and he groaned, needing more.
He draped her legs over his shoulders and dragged her pussy hard against his face, really getting in there, tucking into his sweet meal. His beard scraped against her thighs, turning her skin red, and the strokes he inflicted between her legs teased out more of her desperate sounds, painting them in a picture of devotion and greed.
She writhed and thrashed beneath him, her hair splayed across the pillow in luminous waves, trapping the lamplight in metallic shades of red. The texture was softer, fuller, more luminous than he ever imagined it could be.
His starved mouth inched up to her other hair—the short red curls on her mound. He pressed his nose in the patch and inhaled deeply, basking in her pheromones and the sinfully ripe scent of her musk.
“You’re smelling my pussy.” She half-laughed, half-moaned. “God, you’re so filthy.”
“Just getting started.”
Moving his tongue away from his first conquest, he licked his way backward, along the sexy slit of her body until he reached the next opening.
With his hands locked behind her knees, he pushed her thighs to her chest, angling her tightest channel heavenward. Then he shoved his tongue inside.
She made a scandalized sound and clenched the tight ring of muscle, trying to keep him out as her hands swatted and pushed. “What are you doing?”
“Your ass and my dick are going to spend a lot of time together. I’m talking about regular visits. At least once a day.”
“Oh my fuck, you weren’t kidding? Anal is your weakness?”
“It’s my weakness at a premature-ejaculation level.” He gripped himself, collecting the thick, abundant pre-cum from his tip. Then he held up his wet hand. “I’m leaking all over just thinking about it.”
She burst out laughing. “You traumatized my brother doing that.”
“Oh shit. In Rome.”