Wilder (The Renegades) (20 page)

“Say the words. I need to hear them. No misunderstandings between us, ever.”

My entire body was damn near humming, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. “I want you, Paxton.”

He lowered his arms slowly and, keeping my eyes locked with his, stalked me with lethal grace. I held my ground, my heart pounding harder with each step he took, like my body had Paxton radar, and it was blaring the sweetest alarm.

He didn’t stop until his mouth was on mine, kissing me breathless, turning my mind—and my knees—to mush. My hands tunneled through his hair, and he grabbed my ass, lifting me against his chest. His grip shifted to my thighs as he ran his lips down my neck, and I locked my ankles around his waist.

And shit…there went his towel.

Paxton was naked, gloriously, fully naked, and I wasn’t even in a position to appreciate it. I settled for second best, running my hands down his sculpted back—until I found myself on mine, sinking into the soft bed with his delicious weight on top of me.

“You lost your towel,” I told him as he nibbled at my collarbone.

“I did,” he answered, his hands squeezing my thighs with just the right amount of pressure. His thumbs snuck under my shorts, so high on my upper thigh that he brushed my panties.

“We… We have to…” There was something, I knew it, but I just didn’t care. Not when he ran his hands to my waist and then under my shirt, dragging the fabric up.

“We have to what?” he asked, his mouth at my ear. His tongue traced the shell, and I groaned. He had a way of finding spots I never even realized were so sensitive.

“Movie. We’re supposed to watch a movie,” I managed to get out.

He slid down my body, trailing kisses up my bare stomach, leaving chills in his wake as he reached where my shirt pooled at my bra line. “I’d rather watch you come a few times.”

A few?
“Feeling ambitious tonight, are we?” I asked, my hips moving of their own accord. I nearly groaned when they brushed his erection.

He hissed at the contact. “Just stating the truth.”

“Should we do this later?” My body nearly cried at the thought of not finishing what we’d started. “I don’t want Little John to come looking.”

He kissed the underside of my jaw. “He’s not going to come looking, I promise. And if you think I honestly give a fuck that we’re missing the movie, you’re sorely mistaken. I’d miss every movie for the rest of my life if it meant I got to touch you. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He tensed above me.

“No,” I reassured him. “Never.”

Without looking away, he raised my shirt over my head, and I eagerly lifted my arms to help. “Thank God,” he whispered, and then kissed me.

He consumed me, taking over every thought with each stroke of his tongue, each angle he used to deepen the caress. He kissed me like I was the answer to every question he’d ever had, and in turn, I held nothing back.

He unhooked my bra with a snap of his fingers, and then he slipped it down my arms so it could join my shirt on the floor. When he lowered himself to kiss me again, we were skin-to-skin, and the contact was enough to send flames licking down my body, pooling the heat between my thighs.

He groaned. “You feel incredible,” he said with one last pull at my lower lip. Then his lips trailed a path to my breasts, where he took one hardened nipple into his warm mouth.

I sucked in a breath and arched against his mouth, craving more and knowing he could deliver it.

My hands found his hair, his shoulders, anything that could anchor me as pure sensation took over. There was nothing but Paxton, and that was perfection in itself. He moved to the other breast, his hands never ceasing their movement between my waistline and neck, bringing every nerve ending to life with his touch.

He made me feel worshipped, adored, and I loved him all the more for it.

I pulled gently on his hair, and he looked into my eyes, dragging his tongue over my nipple. Pleasure rushed through me. He made it so easy to want him.

I twisted my legs, and he gave in to my silent demand, rolling over so I knelt on top of him, his hips between my knees. His hands flexed on my thighs, subtly digging in to the muscle as I traced the line of his dragon tattoo, looking up to watch his eyes darken as I reached the tip of its tail.

Then I used both hands to explore the lines of his chest, his abs, leaving no inch of skin untouched. He had various tattoos running the length of his arm, some down his abdomen, and tiny scars peppered his otherwise perfect skin.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice low.

“That you are pretty much every fantasy come to life,” I answered. “I can’t believe I get to touch you.”

He ran his hands up my rib cage until he cupped my breasts. “I was thinking pretty much the same thing. Except dirtier. You’re way too good for me.”

“Good?” I asked, raising my hips and sliding down to his thighs so his erection sprung between us. Then I took hold of it at the base with one hand and caressed the length with the other.

“Fuck,” he moaned, arching his hips into my hands. He grasped my hips, his fingers tightening on me. “Leah,” he warned.

I ran my thumb over the head of his dick, and he groaned, his stomach muscles tensing. Having him under me, losing his control because of me, was intoxicating. I moved him again through my grip, reveling in the juxtaposition of soft skin and the steel underneath. That thought sent another ache shooting straight through me. He was beautiful, his throat working, neck arching, face tight with restraint…and he was mine.

As if he sensed me watching him, his eyes snapped open. “Enough,” he growled, and flipped me to my back, rising above me before kissing every rational thought from my head. “You push me closer to the edge than anyone I’ve ever met,” he said against my mouth.

“Good,” I fired back. I didn’t want to think about every other girl he’d taken to bed, every woman who’d put her hands on him, felt the power flexing beneath his surface, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t well aware of how many there had been.

I closed my eyes against the unwelcome thoughts, wanting this minute to be special, to be different.
You’re the only one he’s claimed as his
, I reminded myself, but that sliver was under my skin, stealing some of my joy.

“You enjoy testing me?” he asked between kisses, one of his hands weaving through my hair while the other caressed my side, stoking the fire that was already burning within me.

“Yes,” I admitted. His fingers flirted with the waist of my shorts. And I was almost ready to tear them off myself before he flicked open the button.

“Why?” he asked, licking and sucking the sensitive skin at the base of my neck.

I arched my hips, hoping he’d get the message that I wanted his hands, and I wanted them now. “Paxton,” I pleaded when he didn’t move.

He met my eyes as he slid the shorts down my legs, and I was more than happy to help. Then his hands stroked back up, his thumbs lightly tracing my scars, but he still didn’t look away. Even when his thumbs stroked along the
V
of my panties, he held my gaze, that look hotter than any caress could have been.

Until he ran his thumb over my core, nothing but a scrap of lace between us. “Damn, you’re soaking wet,” he said, his eyes momentarily closing as he took a deep breath. I wasn’t embarrassed—I was desperate, and if he didn’t put his hands on me soon, I was going to combust. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” I said instantly.

“Tell me why you like to test me,” he prodded, using his thumb to press on my clit through the material.

My hips bucked. “Paxton, please,” I begged.

He pressed again, dragging the material across the sensitive nerves. “Tell me.”

I hated how much control he had over me in bed as much as I loved his ability to turn me molten with a simple movement. “Why?”

He licked a path between my breasts until he ended at my mouth, kissing me deeply. My hips rocked against his hand, but he moved with me, unwilling to give me the friction I needed. “Because I don’t like whatever thought crept into your eyes a minute ago. Because I want this—want you—too badly to let anything else into this bed besides the two of us.”

My fingers flexed on the muscles of his shoulders. “Because I want you to remember this—remember me.”
Because I want to be the one you don’t forget when this is over.

His hands found my ass, and he jerked me against him, his dick rubbing right where I wanted him, and I whimpered. “I will always remember this.” His thumbs tucked into the straps of my panties, and he dragged them down my legs, leaving me utterly bare in front of him. His breath was ragged as his eyes followed the reverse path back up. “You are so fucking exquisite.” He stroked my hips, then dipped to my waist before reaching my breasts and cupping them. “You’re curved everywhere that drives me crazy, and that little gasp you make”—he thrust against me while rolling my nipples and I drew a quick breath—“yeah, that one—makes me desperate to bury myself inside you so I can hear it again and again.”

His words were enough to have me writhing beneath him. “Pax, I want you,” I said, knowing he loved the words.

“And I want you,” he promised, kissing me gently while rocking against my core, sending another shock of electricity through me, winding that spiral in my belly tighter. “But you need to know that I don’t need to remember you, Leah. Not when I have zero intention of ever letting you go.”

His mouth conquered mine, wiping away my doubt, my insecurities. He was mine now, and that was enough. He broke the kiss only to slide down my body, bending my knees to spread my legs wider. “Now turn off that beautiful brain of yours, Firecracker, and just feel.”

He gave me a wicked smile, then held me apart with his fingers and licked through my core.

My back came off the bed and my fingers flew to his head to push him away…to pull him closer. “Holy shit.”

His tongue swirled around my clit as one of his fingers slipped inside me, and I was a whirlwind of pleasure. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he said against my flesh. “How do you want it?”

My chest heaved, the tension in me so tight that I was afraid I’d snap. “I…I don’t know,” I answered.

“Tell me,” he ordered with another long stroke of his tongue.

Sparks flew behind my eyes. “I don’t know! God, that’s amazing.”

He lifted his head, his gorgeous eyes slightly wide. “You’ve never had someone go down on you.”

My teeth sank into my lower lip, and I shook my head.

A fierce look of possessiveness washed over his face. “Even better. Hold on to the sheets, Firecracker.”

My hands gripped the sheets, twisting them between my fingers as he set his mouth back on me, licking, sucking, exploring me with his fingers, lips, and tongue. He pressed where I gasped, lingered where I moaned, thrust his tongue inside me when my hips bucked against him.

My legs shook, the tension within me so tight it was a blissful torture. Then he whispered, “Let go, baby,” and with one more stroke of my clit, I was flying, waves of euphoria washing over me, through me, as I came, his name on my lips.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, and I nearly came again. How the hell was someone that sexy?
How am I ever going to look at you again without remembering what you can do with that mouth?

“That’s the general point,” he said.

“Shit, I said that out loud.” I grimaced.

He grinned, but it was strained. “And much appreciated.”

Every line of his body was strained to the max, his muscles nearly locked, tiny beads of sweat dotting his forehead, telling me that he needed to be inside me as badly as I needed him there.

“Condom?” I asked.

He leaned over the bed, grabbing one from his bag.

I laughed at how prepared he was. “Planned this, did you?”

He ripped the foil packet open and rolled it over his erection, the sight sending another wave of want through me even though I should be sated. But my body was more than ready for what was next.

“Hey, a guy’s allowed to dream,” he said, his weight settling on me as I brought my knees up to cradle his hips.

“You dreamed this?” I asked, kissing the stubble along his jaw.

“I fantasized this, and I promise the reality is even better. But you…” He cupped my face as his erection nudged my entrance. “You’re the dream.”

He kissed me, and I melted into him, into what we could be. His thumbs stroked over my nipples, and that fire was kindled in my belly again. I rocked against him, letting him know that I was ready, and he simply tugged on my lower lip with his teeth. “Patience.”

Fuck patience, I wanted him
now.

Then his hand reached between us, his fingers lightly petting me, stroking the hypersensitive flesh, and I arched up against him, taking his breaths in my gasps as he worked me over, brought me back to the brink while restraining himself.

“Paxton, please. I want you inside me. I need you.”

He groaned. “God, you kill me.”

I reached between us and guided him to me. With one hand he gripped the back of my head, looking deeply into my eyes. “You’re everything,” he promised as he thrust home.

We both cried out.

I burned a tiny bit from the stretch, but he held still, kissing every other thought from my head as I adjusted to having him inside me.

When I moved my hips against his, he groaned and then began to move with sure, steady strokes, lingering inside me before beginning again, like he couldn’t bear to leave but couldn’t wait to come back.

Each stroke hit exactly where I needed, filled and moved me, fed the fire that was dying to be set free. His hips kept perfect rhythm, never breaking pace as he made love to me, his eyes never leaving mine except during his kisses.

Even when I thought he’d be spent, his muscles locked, he kept moving, kept stroking me higher and higher until I felt that edge approaching, but I needed more.

“Pax,” I whimpered, “I need—”

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed, cradling my ass to rock into me harder, faster. I wrapped my legs around his hips, and his eyes squeezed shut. “You’re so fucking perfect. So tight. Wet. Hot. God, Leah. I want to live here.”