Page 88 of Sweet Redemption

“You put me on your body . . .” I breathe out, like a prayer slipping past my lips before pressing them against the tattoo.

“You already owned my body and soul, princess.” Strong, warm hands cup the back of my head, bringing my face back to his as he steals the breath from my lungs, and my walls crumble around me. His lips devour mine, worshipping me like I’m the air he breathes and he can’t get enough.

“I’m sure,” I whimper, and Hendrix’s baby blue eyes darken, the only warning I get before his mouth is back on mine. Demanding and devouring in a way only he could ever be.

In a way I crave.

In a way I’ve missed.

Callused fingers find my jaw, tilting my head, and I throw myself into our kiss, letting go of every ounce of fear and hesitation. Letting go of the past.

Clinging to the present. To him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs as his lips trail down the length of my throat and suck the tender flesh on the side of my neck. “Relax,” he whispers into the darkness, and I arch and gasp as he pinches one peaked nipple and tugs the lace cup of my bra down to soothe the soft skin with his tongue.

“Oh God,” I keen and squirm as Hendrix’s hands slide along my ribs, settling on my hips as his lips follow the same path. “Please, Hendrix.”

“I’ve spent fucking years without you, princess.” He presses his mouth to one hip, then the other, his eyes locked on mine, the devil dancing behind those beautiful blue irises. “I’m going to spend all fucking night showing you just how good we are together. Don’t rush me.”

Yes, please is all I manage to think before both big hands possessively slide up the inside of my thighs, spreading me. His lips pressing against my knee, then higher, and —ohmygod—he licks and sucks the tender flesh until I’m spiraling with anticipation as heat spreads along my hypersensitive skin.

And blissfully, every worry falls away, and I’m suddenly left solely focused on this man and this moment. On his hot breath against my cool skin. His rough fingers and the need pooling deep in my core. On the way this man has always made me feel when it was just us.

Safe. Loved. Whole.

My body trembles under his touch. So utterly desperate for him, I’m ready to detonate like a bomb when his fingers finally slide along the edge of my panties, teasing me over the lace with his mouth.

A needy moan spills past my lips, long and loud. More. I need more.

“Such a pretty pussy, princess.”

I close my eyes, so close already, and snap them right back open as he slaps my pussy, sending heat straight through my core.

Holy shit.

“Eyes on me, Serena. I’m going to need you to watch me make you come, baby.”

Fuck, I forgot how much I love that. That commanding voice. Pleasure mixed with the warm sting of pain that leaves me throbbing for him.

I force my eyes open and slowly drop them to him with a wanton smile, and God, the feral look in his eyes is everything.

Hendrix licks me through the expensive lace, and I moan until he stops.

What in the edging hell?

“Tell me you want this, baby.”

“Oh my God, I want this—you—so badly that if you stop now, I may never survive, Hendrix Sinclair.” I lift up on my elbows and suck in a sharp breath at the gorgeous view I’m met with. His wide shoulders, golden skin, and that fucking gorgeous face looking up at me from between my legs . . . “Fuck me,” I sigh. “Do those words work for you?”

He slides his thumb over my clit through the lace, a beautiful cocky smirk on his face.

“That’ll do.”

My legs tremble as he pulls me closer, burying himself between my thighs.

“Jesus, Hendrix,” I moan as electricity courses through my body, a million nerve endings sparking to life as I curl my fingers in his dark hair and hold him where I want him.

He spears the tip of his tongue along the lace covering my center, and chills pebble my overheated flesh.