“Haven’t been able to?”

I rapidly shook my head, my hips rocking automatically. Pushing against him. Moving faster.

His mouth covered mine, his tongue forcing its way in. The night before had been impulsive. Slow. Playful. That unknown and unfamiliar sense of giddiness and heady power filled me just as full as his thick finger had.

There was nothing slow and building about the way he kissed me right then. It was all need and desperation and domination.

He kissed me like I was his to kiss.

When he leaned away, his finger circled my clit. Not with the pressure and speed I needed but just enough to make me wild. “You want my help, baby?”

I nodded rapidly that time, practically a bobblehead.

His hand was gone, and a moment later, so was he. It was disconcerting to go from feeling so safe and surrounded to so vulnerable and exposed.

My gaze shot down as Ward dropped to his knees in front of me. “What’re you doing?”

“Eating your pussy till your taste is permanently tattooed on my tongue,” he muttered before lifting the hem of the hoodie and gripping my hips to hold it out of the way.

Or maybe to hold me in place.

Likely both.

I wanted to come. I wanted him to make me come.

But with his hand. Or cock. Not by going down on me. That never did it, and I was already too built up. I couldn’t take however many additional minutes of teasing before he gave up on it.

On me.

I gripped his blond hair and tugged, but he didn’t back away. He groaned and shifted forward, his short hair pulled taut.

Oh hell, that’s hot.

Why is that hot?

“Ward,” I started, his name becoming a moan when his tongue darted out to lick my slit.

“Fuck, say it like that again.”

“Wait,” I said, fighting to remember why I’d want that.

Oh.

Yeah.

“I don’t want… We can’t… If I lose my balance,” I blurted.

There.

That’s a reasonable excuse.

“Fuck, you’re right. My bad.” Standing, he kept hold of my hips and walked me backward toward his house.

That was worse.

Outside was open and fun and less pressure. Inside was… real.

“Out here,” I exclaimed.

I just want a repeat of last night by the fire. Is that too much to ask?

He changed course again until I hit something hard. When he lifted me onto it, I realized my bare ass was on his patio table.

“What’re you doing?” I hissed, partially because it was cold but mostly because it was far from sanitary.

“Eating dinner.” His tall, muscular body folded in front of me as he pulled me to the very edge. Like his kiss, there was no teasing. No buildup. His mouth covered me, and he ate.

Like he wanted to devour me. Like he’d been starved for me.