Page 55 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

Pulling him in, she ground her hips, desperate to have as much contact with him as she could, yet none of it was enough. She needed to feel him. All of him.

The hand on her neck threaded through her hair. She felt a moan echo shamelessly in her chest and the hand on her back seized a fist full of her dress. She lifted her leg, trying to wrap it around the outside of his hip; their height difference suddenly became irritating.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. His chest heaved under her hand. “Clarissa.”

Her mind exploded, the ache in her pelvis now undeniable. Why did he have to say her name like that? She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his breath, his heartbeat.

“Should I … Do you want me to go?” he rasped.

Her eyes flew open. Why the hell would he ask a stupid question like that?

Leaning back, her hands fell to his forearms. His ginger hair was mussed from where she’d gripped it, the brown of his eyes hidden behind his pupils, his fair face flushed. He gazed at her in earnest, waiting for an answer. The only problem was her brain was going haywire. Unable to think straight, she couldn’t make her mouth work to give him an answer.

Lifting her hand, she caressed his face. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. Raising onto the tips of her toes, she kissed him.

As if savoring her every movement, he kissed her slower. Suddenly nothing else mattered. Not her insecurities, not her past; all that mattered was that he kept holding her, kissing her, and that he never let her go.

“Thomas,” she gasped against his lips. “I want you.”

In an instant, her feet left the ground as he scooped her up in his arms. In a panic, she gripped his neck. She couldn’t remember ever being carried like this. If she wasn’t so preoccupied with him, she thought she would have screamed.

Burrowing her face in the crook of his neck, she kissed him as he carried her inside. Did he shut and lock the door? She couldn’t bother to check right now; his proximity was making her dizzy.

He set her down, then turned to close the bedroom door. At that moment, all she cared about was him, and he was wearing entirely too many clothes.

Crashing into him, she kissed him, fumbling with the buttons on his flannel until she felt the heat of his bare skin against her hands.

Tossing aside the offending garment, he pulled off her sweater. When his hands brushed her scars, she winced.

“I’m sor—” She was cut off as he placed a finger over her mouth.

Leaning over her, he kissed the scars on her neck, trailing down over her shoulder to her forearm. Her eyes rolled and her lids fell closed. No one had ever touched her scars, or anywhere, like this before. Turning her palm up, he kissed her pulse. She whimpered.

Trailing his hands down to her thighs, he went under her dress. Fingers brushed over her hips and waist, making her shudder. In one fluid motion, he pulled her dress over her head.

Cool air brushed her hot skin. She was abruptly and painfully aware she was standing in only her panties with every inch of her burns exposed. The need to cover herself was instant. Curling in, she placed a hand over the twisted and puckered skin on her abdomen.

Kneeling in front of her, Thomas moved her hand to his neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her. Featherlight kisses danced over her scars. She choked back a sob.

“Do you want me to stop?” he murmured against her flesh.

“No.” She threaded her fingers through his hair. “You can’t imagine how good that feels.”

“I will kiss your scars every day until you believe they are beautiful.” His hot breath danced across her skin. “And every day after so you never forget it.”

While he took his time adoring her body, tears filled her eyes as she became a trembling mess. She tried to memorize it all. Every touch, every lick, the way his breath felt against her skin. The way he was extra gentle around her burns without ignoring them. Her heart shattered into a million pieces as she realized this was what it felt like to be worshiped.

Finally, he slipped his fingers into the hem of her panties, pulling them down to her ankles. Kissing his way back up her body, he stood. He cupped her breasts, his mouth claiming hers.

Her head was buzzing, and her body throbbed. Kissing him back, she seized the zipper on his jeans. She pushed her hand inside to feel him. He gasped as she wrapped her fingers over his cloth-covered erection.

Breaking the kiss long enough to remove his clothes, he stood before her as bare as she was. Pausing, she took a moment to appreciate him. His body was toned, every inch of his pale skin scattered in freckles; he was hard, uncut, and utterly gorgeous.

Licking the tip of her thumb, she pressed it to his tip, swirling it in the bead of pre-cum. He gasped, his head falling to the crook of her neck. Doing it again, he shuddered. She smirked; she liked this new game.

Seizing her waist, he lifted her up, laying her down on the bed. Crawling over her, he took one of her breasts into his hot mouth. Of its own volition, her body curled off the mattress as she gripped him. He pushed her back down, as she feebly tried to grind against him, desperate for any type of friction.

Hovering over her, his hands made their way between them. Strong fingers explored her vulva. She bit into her fist to stifle a yell. He’d found her bundle of nerves. With a satisfied moan, he started to move his fingers in a circle over her swollen clit.