Page 65 of Beautiful Revenge

The door slams behind us. Any other time, I’d worry about the antique hinges, but I’m more concerned about the buttons on Devon’s shirt. I want to feel every inch of him.

My fumbling fingers are forced aside when he yanks my tank up and over my head. His strong hands frame my face as he claims my mouth with more ferocity than he did on the pier.

I moan and grip his wrists to hang on.

His touch is new and foreign and exciting. Wetness pools between my legs when he presses his cock into my belly with a promise of what’s to come. He’s long and hard. The thought of him makes me weak in the knees.

I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this.

His strong fingers are rough when they slide down my chest and cup my breast. When he claims my nipple, he twists over the lace.

My lips go slack, and my head falls to the wall behind me.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

I open my eyes when he nudges his muscled thigh between my legs. I step to make room for him. He presses into my clit, and I feel it everywhere. His fingers trail farther down, between my breasts, until they hit the front clasp of my bra.

Snap goes the hook. My breasts are free for him.

His lustful blue eyes rake over my face and down to my chest as he pushes my bra down my shoulders. “You’re a minefield, baby. I cannot wait to set off every inch of you.”

“Yes.” I manage the one word on a nod. It’s impossible to string a sentence together. “Please. Every inch.”

He licks his lips. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

I force myself to focus and move back to his shirt. I’m surprised buttons don’t fly, I’m ripping at them so fast.

When I finally push his shirt open, he takes his hands off me for the first time since he claimed me down by the water. His shirt joins mine on the floor, and my eyes go directly to his shoulder where a puckered, faded scar sits front and center.

I can’t think about that now, because he easily lifts me at the hips.

I wrap my legs around his waist, press my bare breasts to his warm chest, and thread my fingers through his hair.

I’m confident in my body. I always have been.

But that doesn’t mean I’ve ever felt like this. I can’t get close enough. His hands squeeze my ass, and I tug at his hair where I’m holding on by the roots.

“Devon.” I breathe his name close to his lips and only have eyes for him as he moves me through the suite. “Please.”

My back hits the bed, and he has no choice but to follow me down, because I refuse to let go of him. He puts his lips to my collarbone and murmurs, “Please what?”

He starts to kiss and lick his way down my chest as I stare at the ceiling of his bedroom. Even his ceiling reminds me of him. Wood paneling with darker wood beams across it. It’s even distressed.

Rough around the edges, yet all together, fascinating.

Beautiful.

Just like him.

Though I’m not going to call him beautiful right now.

His teeth sink into my nipple.

“Oh, Lord. Yes. Please.”

I feel his lips smirk around my nipple before he licks and kisses me where he gave me a love bite. His fingers rip at the button on my linen slacks. He only lets go to snag them at my hips and takes my panties with them.

Down, inch by inch, he pulls them past my hips and sex and thighs until I’m completely bare.