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We hadn’t bothered to turn on the patio light. There was only enough illumination coming from inside to see his form, but I couldn’t make out the expression on his face. I wrapped my arms around his neck because the action was so instinctual. “I’m not sure I know her,” I teased.
“I’m absolutely positive that you do,” he answered, his head so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my lips.
I shivered with need. He was close, but not close enough.
I craved that connection, even though I knew it was dangerous.
“Then allow me to remind you just how fucking gorgeous you are,” he growled before his mouth came down on mine.
The second he started to kiss me, I was lost.
Dylan owned my lips, my entire mouth, and his demanding exploration wiped nearly every thought from my mind.
I opened to him, and his tongue sought and found mine, both coaxing and insisting on my full capitulation.
I moaned against his lips, just as hungry for this frantic, crazy contact as he was.
I submerged myself in Dylan.
His scent.
His touch.
His urgency.
I was surrendering to the red-hot chemistry that continually flowed between the two of us.
“Dylan,” I whimpered as he pulled back and nipped at my bottom lip.
I threaded my hands through his coarse hair, my entire body quivering with desire.
He buried his face in my neck and ran his lips and tongue along the sensitive skin there, making me crave more.
Liquid heat flooded between my thighs, and I fisted his hair, pressing my body up until I could rub against him so I could try to sate the unrelenting lust coursing through me.
His hand grasped my ass and yanked my hips up. He pressed his hard erection against my core as he rasped against my ear, “This is what you do to me, Kylie. I’m so fucking hard every time I look at you. All I can think about is burying my cock inside you until it makes me nearly insane. So don’t ever deny that you’re the most stunning woman on the planet ever again.”
“Dylan,” I said in a desperate voice.
“Do. You. Understand?” He growled the question.
“Yes,” I panted. “Yes.”
Jesus! He made me feel like a sexual goddess, so I wasn’t about to argue.
He nipped my earlobe. “Good,” he said hoarsely. “Glad we straightened that out.”
“I want you so much that it hurts,” I confessed without a qualm.
“I can make it go away,” he told me, his baritone low and sensual.
He reached between our bodies and easily slid his hand into the stretchy material of my shorts.
I would have shot out of the lounger if he hadn’t been on top of me when his strong fingers slipped into my panties, and he slid between my folds.
“Jesus, Kylie. You’re so damn wet.” His voice was gruff and heated.
When his finger slid over my clit, I cried out. “Yes. So good, Dylan. Please.”
