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His tongue thrust and he tasted heaven and he wanted to eat her right up. So he did. He licked. Sucked. Kissed. Stroked. Worked her clit over and over again and her feverish pants and moans drove him on. He was merciless. So focused and hungry for her that he could not, would not stop until she came.
And she did.
She shrieked and climaxed against his mouth. Her hands fisted in his hair. Not to pull him away but to hold him closer. He lapped her up as she came for him.
Then…
He eased back. Her breasts heaved as she stared up at him.
“That—that was?—”
Without taking his eyes from her, Beau stripped. He paused long enough to pull a condom from his wallet. He rolled it onto his dick.
She still sprawled at the edge of the bed. Her legs were still open. Her sex glistening for him.
He hauled her a little closer to the edge of the bed. Still standing, he positioned her, and he took. Beau drove as deep into her as he could go. And that was when his control snapped. Nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing could feel as good as Avalon. Tight. Hot. Wet. Driving him to the brink of sanity and beyond. His fingers bit into her waist. Her legs wrapped around his hips. She surged against him even as he pounded into her. The rhythm was too fast. Too hard. Her body was too perfect. He could not get in her deep enough.
His mouth took hers. A wild, voracious kiss. His hips kept driving against her.
Not enough.
So he hauled her off the bed.
She gasped into his mouth.
He whirled. Pinned her against the wall. Then with his hold on her waist, he lifted her up and down. Up and down. Up and?—
“Beau!” Avalon tore her mouth away and yelled his name even as her hands flew out. Something thudded onto the floor. He didn’t stop to look and see what it was.
He was too busy coming inside of her. A deep, endless wave of pleasure poured from him as he held her. Not just taking. Not any longer.
Claiming.
And he knew that he was well and truly fucked.
Beau had gone back to her. At the very first opportunity. Gone rushing back to the hotel where he knew Avalon hid.
Apparently, Beau had not learned a lesson from the fire that had wrecked his bar. Instead of kicking Avalon from his life, he seemed determined to run back to her.
Like a moth to the flame.
From the darkness, he smiled.
He’d always really liked that comparison. Some things were just drawn to the fire. Even though, in the end, the fire would consume them.
A beautiful tragedy.
That would be Avalon’s life. And death.
A beautiful tragedy. Because that was exactly what she deserved.
Chapter Eleven
“Dammit. I meant to do that in the bed.”
Her breath heaved in and out. Her heartbeat pounded so hard that Avalon could feel it shaking her body. Sweat slickened her skin. And she was pretty sure she’d just left claw marks on Beau.
His head lifted. The room was mostly in shadows. Darkness. Some light spilled through the open doorway. At one point, Avalon vaguely remembered knocking over a lamp. She also remembered coming. Hard.
