Every Wrong Reason

He tasted me with his tongue, his teeth, his entire body. Everything about this kiss was designed to bring me to my knees with the weakness I still had for this man… the weakness I would always have for him.

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on my jacket, desperate to tear it off. I couldn’t form rational, cognizant thoughts through my haze of lust and exhausted emotions. I couldn’t do anything but feel and touch and give Nick exactly what he wanted.

But I also knew I wanted this.

Him.

I wanted him.

It had been so long. It had been too long.

Despite our separation, my body was used to having this man whenever I wanted. There was a sharp familiarity between us, an aching intimacy that could not be denied. I knew every angle of this man; I knew how his hipbones felt in my hands, the press of his naked thighs against the inside of mine. I could close my eyes and conjure him in seven years of intimate nights, lust in his eyes and perfect knowledge in his hands… in his body.

I couldn’t say no to this.

I couldn’t deny him tonight.

I needed him too much.

He succeeded with the zipper, growling in victory. He pushed it off my shoulders, turning it inside out in his fury to get it off me. Butterflies erupted in my stomach, flapping their huge wings with ravenous anticipation.

He kicked my jacket out of the way as he pushed me back against the door. I hit it with a thud, clutching his shirt for support.

He was too impatient for that. He didn’t care if I was settled or not. And I loved it. I loved his greedy hurry… his intense need.

“This,” he rasped, tugging at my shirt.

I helped him this time. We yanked it off together. My fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt. “This,” I mimicked. He ripped it off with one hand.

We collided again, both of us frantic to feel the other. My body pressed into his naked chest and I moaned from the feel of it. My arms wound around his neck and I plunged my fingers into the soft tendrils of hair at his nape.

“Nick, I can’t stop,” I whimpered.

“Don’t,” he ordered coarsely. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” But then he did.

He pulled back and stared down at me. Even in the darkness, I could see the hunger in his eyes. He looked ready to consume me, to pull me completely into his body until we were one without question. Until I could never separate myself from him again.

I tilted my chin, knowing he would meet me, knowing he couldn’t help himself. Except he didn’t. I tugged on his neck, hoping to bring his mouth to mine, but he kept his distance.

“No.” I sucked in a breath as disappointment ripped through me. I abruptly wanted to cry. But then he said, “Not like this. Not here again.”

In the next second, he swept me into his arms, cradling me against him. I let out a squeak of surprise, grabbing for his neck again as he turned suddenly and headed for the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“Bed,” he grunted as he took the stairs two at a time. “Our bed.”

My eyes bulged. I didn’t know what to think about that. I felt like I should protest. Hot sex in our entryway, against the wall, that was one thing. We’d done that already. There hadn’t been any consequences.

Er, not many anyway.

But the bed. Our bed? That meant something different… something more.

I was just about to protest or suggest someplace else- like the kitchen table- when his head dipped down and he bit my nipple. I squeaked again, completely taken off guard.

His answering growl did something to my insides. Like melted them completely. His head dropped again and he licked me through my bra, soothing the small sting of pain.

He tripped on the last couple steps and nearly dropped me. He caught me just in time and steadied out, laughing at his clumsiness.

I found myself smiling when he tossed me on our unmade bed. I landed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, bouncing once.

He didn’t waste any time getting back to business. He tugged on my rain boots, throwing them over his shoulders. His palms rubbed a hot path up my thighs and flicked the button of my jeans off.

I watched him in complete fascination. He watched me just as closely. His eyes roamed over my body, eating up every inch of exposed skin. His searing gaze lit me on fire, turned my body into a panting, wanting mess.

I pulled the straps of my bra off myself. I couldn’t wait for him. I wanted him to see me like this. I wanted him to admire all of me. I wanted him to touch me… taste me… and never ever stop.

 When I reached around and unclasped my bra, then pulled it from my chest, his breath caught in his chest and he stared at my breasts as if he couldn’t look away, as if he would die if he did.

His mouth descended on my nipple and the moan I let out when his tongue came into contact with my skin was a sound I had never made before. I was sure of it. I had never been this desperate… this needy. I had never needed him so badly before. Needed him like I needed to breathe.

Needed him like I couldn’t live without him or his touch.

Or at least not in a very long time.

After he’d spent equal time with each breast, he stood up slowly, reluctantly. His eyes never left me, even while his hands had to. He worked his jeans off, then his boxer briefs.

He stood before me for a few heart-stopping seconds and it was my turn to take my fill of him. My heart stuttered in my chest and my fingers tingled with anticipation.

Had there ever been a more beautiful man?

I scooted back on the bed as he crawled over me, covering me completely with his length. He kissed my hip and I jerked from the sensation. His chuckle sent warm breath floating over me and I shivered again.

“So ticklish,” he murmured. His lips trailed over my abdomen and I tried not to wiggle. He kissed the place just below my belly button and then again before moving on.

His body hovered over mine like a feral animal, like some primal creature from a different world. He was so sexy, so incredibly enticing and oh so dangerous.

I couldn’t help but feel threatened by his power, his utter dominance of me. I couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was about to ruin me completely.

That I would never recover.

His mouth moved to my breasts again and I wiggled beneath him, suddenly hating the slow build. I needed this now. I needed him now.

I settled my hands on the sides of his face and begged, “Nick, please.”

He looked up at me, lust, hunger and something so much deeper reflecting in his darkened gaze. “Do you need me?” His fingers settled on the inside of my thigh, pushing it to the side.

His words made me breathless, left me gasping for some purchase on reality. I held his face in my hands and nodded, unable to speak the words.

He kissed my neck, my jaw, my lips. Then he pulled back so he could watch me while he pushed into my core, filling me completely with him.

My back arched off the bed and I wrapped my arms around his neck again, pulling his face to mine.

He took me wildly; he took me with savage need and unrelenting power. He took me in a way that proved he was just as desperate as I was. I could do nothing but wrap my legs around his hips and hold on.

Just when I thought we were nearly finished, just as I started to reach for that tingling cliff of perfect insanity, he slowed down. The abrupt change of pace surprised me and I tilted my hips, telling him what I wanted.

I needed him to finish. I needed him to keep his pace and never stop.

“Nick,” I whimpered.

“Kate,” he growled against my sweat-dotted neck. “Like this.” He took my arms and stretched them over my head. He held them there with one hand while he found leverage with the other. I could do nothing but hug my thighs tighter around his waist and offer up my control. “I need you like this.”