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Snow.
Fight.
Sister.
Death.
“Mmm…” Kash shifts behind me, his deep voice making me shiver. “Syd.”
Hastily, I put the journal back down on the nightstand. “Hey. Did I wake you?”
“I’m dreaming…” He drags me flush against him, his front to my back, and his hard-on presses against my ass, making me draw a sharp breath. “Dreaming you’re with me, in my bed.”
“I’m here.”
“So it seems.” He lifts his arm off me, draws back a bit, then slips his hand under my dress to stroke my hip. “You’re dangerous.”
Look who’s talking. He’s a threat to my sanity. The feel of his hard body snuggled to mine is driving me crazy.
He rocks his hips, and instinctively, I push back. His cock rubs between my ass cheeks, and I moan at the sensation. Why does it feel so good?
Suddenly, he’s sitting up and rolling me under him, onto my back. I’m staring up into his gray eyes, breathless, my arms flung over my head and my head spinning.
He reaches out, clicks on the bedside lamp and grins, slow, confident, and panty-melting. “Morning.”
I can’t help but smile back. “Morning.”
“You really are in my bed.”
“I really am.”
And now I’m the one thinking I’m dreaming, because he’s so beautiful bent over me it’s surreal, his tattooed, corded arms braced on either side of me, his muscular chest in full display, the silver in his nose, brows and ears glimmering like his gunmetal eyes.
I lift a hand and play with the ends of his soft blond hair, then trail my fingers down his face, over the smoothness of his cheek to the roughness of pale stubble on his jaw.
He grunts, ducking his head, color touching his cheekbones. His cock swells more where it’s lying on top of my belly, and I reach down to touch and pet it.
But he pulls back and drags my panties down my legs, instead, abandoning them beside me. Then he lies down on the bed, spreading my legs more to settle between them.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, trying to close my legs, but I can’t, not with a big-ass guy between them. I’m spread wide, and he’s taking an eyeful. “Kash.”
“Your pussy is so pretty,” he whispers reverently, and leaning in, he licks at me, turning my brain to mush. “And delicious.”
“Oh God.” Pleasure zings straight to my core, but I prop myself up on my elbows intent on pushing him away anyway, unsure about this.
He looks up at me, winks, mouth curling into a crooked grin, and then his tongue returns between my legs, licking a long line down my seam.
Oh my God.
I’m not sure what exactly he’s doing—licking, and sucking, and then there’s pressure inside me, and I can’t think, let alone speak as he works me into a moaning mess, the pressure inside me painful.
I need to come, I think, but I can’t find the words, or my voice. I’m close already, teetering on the precipice, my hips lifting as he sucks on my clit, crying out.
Then he groans against my throbbing flesh, and I come, thrashing on the bed, the pleasure too much, everything so sensitive that I want him both to keep licking and sucking, and let me go so I can curl into myself until the shudders stop.
Holy shit.
He lifts his head, eyes dark with arousal, and reaches between his legs to fist his hard cock. Despite having just come, a thrill of excitement grips me. This is it, I think. This is where he’ll press into me and have real sex with me. He’ll open me up and push into me, and the thought is as exhilarating as it is scary.
