Page 45 of Fuse

Oh, thank God for his need.

And ohhhh yes, do I watch that come back online too.

Thickening the mists in his eyes into smoke and transforming the breaths on his lips into rasps of pure seduction. “Tell me again, Velvet,” he dictates in that new, sultry voice, matching the tone to how he keeps swiping the pads of his thumbs across my tingling nipples. “Tell me…exactly what you want.” He bites out the final consonant while plucking harder on my swollen tips.

“Oh!” And of course, he’s made it impossible to think of anything except the new fire he’s unfurled through my nerves—and into my pussy. And unthinkable to accept those shocks with anything but high gasps and melting desire. “Ohhhh, God…”

What he does to me. How he knows me. Working my flesh and fantasies like a master sculptor and his clay. Already seeing where I need to be pressed, carved, and brought to life. “That’s not the answer.” And using master’s chisels like his sure, sensual voice and his audacious, tenacious touch. Flattening his hands to more fully massage the flesh beneath those X’s, decadent and determined about his intent. “Tell me, Emmalina.”

I open my mouth. My clutched throat isn’t cooperating. I suck down a deep breath. And then try yet again. “I…I want you to touch me.” But I’m back to practically needing a respirator, grabbing air in desperate spurts between my gasped entreaty. “Please. Touch me…everywhere. Yessssss.”

I’ve been reduced to a state of surrender, plain and simple. What other choice do I have as he kisses me along my jaw, bringing me waves of sparkling pleasure? How do I resist the abject awe of watching him touch me, torque me, seduce me? And how can I do anything but gulp as he releases me, but only because he’s sinking to his knees before me—stripping away everything north of my navel as he goes?

“Everywhere?” he echoes back, brushing my lower abdomen with his lips while tugging at the waistline of my workout capris. “You want me to touch absolutely everything?”

I give in to an enchanted smile on top of my raging lust. I have to admit, it’s pure entertainment to watch him struggling to get my skintight leggings off without using a single finger laser. His soft but frustrated grunts are adorable—and enticing. I sort of like him a little frustrated. Okay, I like it a lot. Imbalance and flux are a pair of incredible aphrodisiacs—I should know, because the man is a master at constantly using them on me—but watching him struggle with them, and knowing it’s because of me, is a turn-on that awakens my arousal in primal, deep-jungle ways.

Me Jane…want you Tarzan…

As soon as the craving growls through my head, a matching sound unfurls from his throat. His gaze widens as if he really is a wild man newly sprung from the rainforest. Has he just read my psyche that clearly, or are we simply meant to be linked like this for always?

Suddenly, his whole expression flares—stopping my heart and robbing my breath. Clearly, the same question has occurred to him too.

Just before we’re both hit by the same answer.

Meant to be.

It makes no sense at all but all the sense in the world. And it reverberates in every sizzle of energy between us…every drop of truth in the charged exchange of our stares.

It’s a truth he speaks perfectly to, dragging me back down into the earth with him. That resounds through his potent snarl as he slides an arm under my knees, compelling me to fall back into the cradle of his other arm. That makes me shiver and tremble and clench as he rakes his bright, intense stare across the nudity he slowly uncovers, finally getting the last of my capris free. That sends a perfect thrill through me as he simply holds my naked form for an extended, exquisite moment.

That pulls out my high, aching sigh…as he covers my bare, tremoring form with his powerfully leathered one.

It’s surreal.

It’s primordial.

It’s dark and dirty, mortal and cold…but tender and urgent and honest and passionate.

It’s paradise.

And I tell him so by grabbing his head with both hands and yanking him down until our lips mash together. Not letting him go even as our teeth knock and our breaths vanish. Molding his lips over mine so he has no choice but to lunge into me, sliding and swirling his hot, beautiful tongue with mine. Forcing the lightning collisions in his chest to collide with the wild thunder of mine, where the storm of my lust pounds and thrashes and needs…

And needs…

And needs…

He shows me his own urgency by shifting his hips over mine and shoving his knees to spread my own, making more room for his throbbing crotch against my clenching pussy. By flowing his hands along my shoulders, down the sides of my ribcage, over the flare of my hips, and then out along the most sensitive parts of my thighs, until he’s swirling circles around the caps of my curled knees. Yes, because he knows even all the spots in my damn knees that make me hotter and hornier. Because he knows what to do to me…

“Everywhere.” And he’s doing it again—speaking the exact thought in my head before I’m done with it, and in a delicious, determined murmur he uses to tickle the inside of my left kneecap. As I shudder from that heat, he adds a silken kiss to the spot. “I want to be everywhere, baby.” He reiterates the promise while giving the same languorous treatment to my right knee, not waiting for my shivers to abate before gliding his hands back the way they came, retracing my inner thighs until he’s flirting his fingertips along the edges of my spread, quivering sex.

I gasp.

He growls.

He captures my stare with his, the glints in his grays a perfect match for the emerging stars overhead, and then entrances me with more of his hypnotizing touch, tracing knowing circles along my labia before gliding inward…

To the places where I’m softest.