Rather than speak, she nodded.

He withdrew his hand from the front of her shorts and instead slipped it underneath from the back, moving over her perfect ass.

She wore a thong.

Groaning, he drew her nipple deeper while exploring that smooth, firm flesh. As he’d told her, the high, loose legs of her cutoffs made it easy to get his hand inside. He eased her up and forward—and got his fingers on her slick, hot flesh.

Silky wet.

Swollen with need.

Leaving her ni**les wet and tight, he took her mouth again, drugging them both with a devouring kiss while barely entering her with one finger. She tried pressing down against him, shifting, wanting more, but he outmaneuvered her each time. It wasn’t easy to remember his purpose right now, not when he’d wanted her so long and she was so incredibly hot.

“Easy,” he told her.

But she surprised him by kissing him again, then whispering, “You told me to tell you.”

Curious how bold she’d be, he nodded. “Yes.”

She stared into his eyes. “Then I want your fingers inside me. As deep as you can go.”

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Fuck. Control shot, Cannon put his head back against the couch and drew her forward. “Brace your hands on my shoulders.”

Urgently, she did—which brought her up to her knees.

Holding her gaze, he parted her, tested her gently, then slowly worked two fingers into her.

Gasping, she leaned in, rubbing her face against his throat and squirming her hips. “God, Cannon, that feels...”

“Good?”

“So good.”

He knew what would feel better, but, damn it, he was afraid of blowing the moment. Better to let her lead the way right now.

“Kiss me, honey.”

She did, her fingers in his hair, her br**sts rubbing against his chest, her body clamping down on his fingers, squeezing each time he withdrew, getting wetter each time he pressed them in again.

She was so tight, so hot.

He brushed his thumb up and found her little clitoris already distended, beaded tight. Teasing over her brought a funny little catch to her breathing. He felt the way she trembled, and he had to believe she was close.

He moved over and around that sensitive little bud again and again, slicking her own moisture over her, rasping, tormenting.

“Oh, God.”

Now, he decided. It had to be now. “Will you trust me, Yvette?”

She kissed his shoulder, bit his chest. Her husky “Yes,” followed by an urgent, “Please,” reassured him that everything would be fine.

“Good.” Taking his hand from between her legs, he turned her to her back on the couch. “Then how about we lose the shorts?”

Her hair tumbled around her. Lust left her eyes dark and heavy, her lips soft and swollen from so much kissing. As he watched, tears glistened in her eyes, but she nodded.

Wasting no time, he dragged the shorts down and off her legs, leaving her in nothing more than a minuscule black thong. He wanted that off her, too, but first...

“This is for me,” he reminded her. “So just relax.” Then he leaned down and pressed his open mouth to the damp material between her legs.

CHAPTER TWELVE

SENSATION SO SHARP should have been painful. Instead it was a nearly unbearable pleasure. Already with Cannon she’d felt things she’d never felt before. Amazing things.

Scorching promises that pushed her nearer to something she wanted very badly.

It hovered close, rolling over her in ever greater waves, only to recede again.

“I need to taste you.”

His long fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties and peeled them away and she didn’t care. She wanted him to see her.

And, God, yes, she wanted his mouth on her.

She was almost desperate for that.

For the longest time he just looked at her—and that was fairly indescribable, too. An incandescent heat lit his vivid blue eyes. Every muscle in his torso looked more defined, much in the way she’d noticed during his fights when his blood pumped harder from exertion. His expression was so focused, so possessive, that he made her feel sexy when she’d always felt ruined instead.

Watching him, she whispered, “Cannon?”

He parted her legs so that he sat between them. His big, rough hands looked dark against her pale skin, feeling over her in a slow sweep that encompassed her shoulders, her br**sts—where he lingered at her ni**les—then her waist, down to her hips and to her inner thighs where he edged her legs wider still.

His nostrils flared. He breathed deeper.

Narrowing his eyes, he turned his hand against her, palm up. She felt him parting her, then the pressure of two thick fingers pushing in. That was enough, but then he did something, crooked his fingers a certain way and reached a spot—

“Ooh.” Automatically her hips lifted up to that sizzling sensation.

His gaze flicked up to hers, probing, interested, then back to where his fingers worked her.

She shifted her legs, stunned at the climbing pressure inside her, the ache that grew tighter but was so very sweet. It couldn’t be this easy. Not after so much disappointment. Not after—

“Stay with me, honey.” And then, “You’ll like this.”

With building anticipation Yvette watched him bend down until his dark head was between her thighs, his breath hot, his mouth hotter.

He inhaled her scent, and groaned.

She couldn’t get enough air to make a single sound.

Using his thumbs to open her, he licked boldly over her—in her—with his rough tongue.




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