“What am I going to do with you?” he murmurs and narrows his brow, as he closes the distance between us. He reaches out to my waist and pulls me against him. Our bodies touch without anything between us for the first time.

My skin hums from the feel of him.

My body aches in the most deliciously sweet ways.

And when his lips slant back over mine and his fingers find their way between my thighs, every part of me wants to beg him to touch me everywhere. His kiss captures my moan when his fingers slip between my slick heat and tuck into me.

“Christ, Chase,” he says against my neck, the heat of his breath sending chills over my skin. His fingers slide over nerves inside and deliver their own sensual assault.

My hands grip his shoulders, fingernails digging into already scarred flesh. I want to reach down and stroke him, feel him, return the favor, and yet I’m held captive by his touch in the best way possible.

His mouth moves to my breasts, the roughness of his stubble, and the warm heat of his mouth against my sensitive nipples, is like adding kerosene to the fire he’s stoking between my thighs.

“Gunner,” I moan as he continues to slide his fingers in and out at the same time his lips and tongue tempt and tease me into a riotous bliss.

My core aches and burns and begs for more and when it hits—when the crescendo of the symphony he’s built hits—my body doesn’t know if it wants to tense or collapse in a heap as my muscles pulse and tighten around him.

“That’s it. Come on,” he encourages as his teeth nip my shoulder. “Come for me, baby.” He groans, his hand now soaked and his dick pulsing against my abdomen, begging to get in on the action.

My breath is shallow as his chuckle heats my ear. “That was good to start with, but I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock like that.” His tongue pushes between my lips and demands more from me. “Taking me all in.” A line of open-mouthed kisses down my jawline. “Fucking me.”

I already ache for him to fill me. I just climaxed, but where his touch is akin to a match, his words are incendiary, taunting me to want more.

And I definitely want more.

“Gunner,” I whisper, as I slide my own hand between my thighs. I coat my fingers with my arousal and then wrap my hand around his cock and slide up and down.

It’s his turn to freeze. His turn to groan. His turn to have his fuse ignited.