Page 26 of Eye of the Hurricane (Weathering Doves Harbor #2)

Katherine

My tongue darts out and swipes at his lips. Ares’ eyes narrow at me, smoldering. He crashes his lips into mine. There is no battle for control, it’s given to him without question.

I’ve never been in a place in my life where I was so comfortable with someone else leading. In every sense, I trust him to take the reins. It scares me, but in a way that has me addicted to the adrenaline rush.

We’re laying on our sides, facing each other and making out. I’ve got nothing but a dress on and he’s fully clothed. I tug at the hem of his shirt.

“Take it off.”

He shakes his head.

“You’re not in charge. Not for this,” he corrects. It’s not just to make a point, either, he really doesn’t take the shirt off.

I slide a hand between us and palm him through his jeans. A groan rumbles low in his throat.

“I want to taste you now,” I tell him.

“Nope, tonight is about you. ”

“If I want it, doesn’t that make it for me?” I ask, propping my head up on my elbow.

“Maybe, you’re still not getting it though.”

I stick my lip out and he leans forward, nipping it with his teeth. He flips me on my back, hovering over me. My eyes land first on his silver necklace hanging over me then flick up to meet his. He reaches a hand behind his neck and yanks his shirt up over his head like some kind of movie.

“I want to take this dress off you now. Can I?” he asks.

“Thought you were in charge, why are you asking me?” I ask, tucking my tongue into my cheek. He raises a brow at me.

“I am in charge. Never mistake that for me not needing or wanting your consent. This is only fun for me if I know it’s still fun for you.”

How can a comment be so sexy and heartfelt at the same time? It’s so kind but it also has me soaking the bed.

He leans back, giving me the room to sit up. When I do, he pulls the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing. His eyes drag slowly up and down my body.

“I know I’ve said it before, but you’re so perfect, Katherine. I don’t know what to do with you,” he says, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

The words send a full feeling rushing into my chest. It feels like the air and the words are lodged in my throat.

“Thank you,” I squeeze out, quietly.

He stands for a moment, unbuckling his jeans. He leaves his pants and boxers in a pile on the floor of my bedroom. He climbs back onto the bed and holds himself over top of me while settling himself between my thighs.

We’re both stripped down to nothing. His skin against mine is euphoric. It feels like we’re made to be touching each other.

It’s in this moment that it sinks in that we’re really going to do this. I never had big expectations for this moment. I wasn’t holding out for the perfect guy or the perfect moment.

This is the perfect moment, though. And he is the perfect guy. My expectations weren’t big. Even if they had been, this would have met them.

Somehow, I’m still nervous. Despite everything being perfect, there’s still a sense of anxiety blooming in my chest.

“Are you nervous?” Ares asks. I’m sure it’s all over my face. It doesn’t stop me from lying, though.

“No.”

He tilts his head at me, letting me know he’s sees right through it. “Katherine.”

“If I say I’m nervous, you’re going to say we need to stop and that’s not what I want.”

“No, we only have to stop if you can’t be honest about how you’re feeling. Nervous is fine, I can work with nervous.”

“Yes, I’m nervous. But I want to keep going,” I assure him.

He doesn’t waste another moment. His lips are on mine again and he’s grinding against me. The head of his cock is gliding against my clit. All I can do is whine in response.

I lift my hips in an attempt to find more friction. He bows his head and lets out a whimper. A fucking whimper , out of someone who’s all man.

“If you want it, ask for it,” he taunts, kissing a line from my jaw between my breasts.

“I don’t beg,” I scoff. He gives me a shrug and pulls one of my nipples between his lips, grazing it slightly with his teeth. I moan against my own will .

He lets go with a pop and attaches his mouth to the other one. This time, he brings his hand up and tweaks my abandoned nipple between his fingers. My head rolls back against the bed.

“Quit teasing,” I pant out.

He chuckles.

“You know what I’m waiting to hear,” he says, licking a stripe from my breast back up to my jaw, just below my ear.

“Please, stop teasing and fuck me,” I plead. A trail of kisses from my ear to my mouth is left behind.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t beg when you sound so pretty doing it.”

Ares Dawkins is cocky in his everyday life but in the bedroom? He’s flat-out arrogant. The worst part is the way it has me soaking through the sheets.

His hand slips between us and he fists his cock, dragging it up and down my folds. This feeling alone has my eyes rolling back in my head. Both of us are panting, watching him slide against me.

He lines himself up at my entrance and puts the slightest bit of pressure. I scan over his face, looking for some connection, some indication that I’m not alone in this moment.

I’m not alone. His eyes are burning into mine and scanning my face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

“You’re sure?” he asks, one final time.

“Positive,” I assure him.

He presses into me. A million feelings rush through me at that initial contact. It’s pure bliss, it’s a stinging stretch, it’s a connection I’ve missed out on my whole life. A moan comes tumbling from his lips and his forehead drops to my chest.

Nothing has ever felt this good. Nothing has ever felt this right. And if I wasn’t on cloud nine, I know it would have me panicking .

“Shit, condom,” he says, pulling away from me. Holy shit. I don’t know how I didn’t think of that. I was so wrapped up in him—us—that it didn’t even cross my mind.

“I’m clean,” I blurt out. Which makes us both laugh. Because no fucking shit I’m clean. I’m a virgin.

“So am I. More of a baby thing,” he says, pulling a shiny packet from his jeans.

“I’m on the shot. But I still think we should use one.” He nods in agreement and rolls the condom over himself.

He lines himself back up with me and pushes in, slightly deeper this time but still only an inch or two. It feels different with the condom but no worse or better. More slippery.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grits out, looking down at me. I don’t expect the words to do anything for me. But it’s obvious they do when I catch myself clenching around him. He moans, dropping his forehead to mine.

“And you’re so fucking big,” I counter. A grin spreads across his cheeks.

“You’re good for the ego, Kitty Kat.” I roll my eyes. I hate that fucking nickname. And I really hate that it’s getting me wetter right now.

He sinks another inch or two into me and we both fill the room with sounds of satisfaction. I’m holding onto him like my life depends on it. Hands wrapped in his hair, legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him toward me.

Until now, I was feeling pretty big and bad. Now I’m feeling like I really can’t take it.

It’s intense, in every aspect. What was a dull pinch has blossomed into pain. There are also big, blaring feelings in my chest that I can’t put names to right now. It feels like all my senses have been plugged into a live wire. And I need a second, need it all to stop for a moment .

“I need a second,” I blurt out. He halts his movements in an instant.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” Concerned eyes flick between mine.

“I’m okay. It hurts a little, yeah. A little overwhelmed,” I admit.

He doesn’t question it for a second. He pulls himself off me and lays next to me.

“It shouldn’t hurt at all. Do you want to stop? We can stop,” he offers. It’s not what I want, though. I know what I want, and it’s him.

“No, I just needed a second to breathe,” I assure him.

“You said you’re overwhelmed. What’s going on up here?” He asks, tapping his middle finger on my temple.

“Nothing bad, just a lot all at once. I’m ready to keep going.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He’s back between my legs within seconds. This time with his fingers buried inside of me and his tongue lapping at my clit. My legs tremble against the sides of his head. It only takes about five minutes before I’m falling apart with his name on my lips again.

He pulls his fingers back and sinks a third back into me. There is no sting this time, just a delicious stretch.

When I don’t show any signs of discomfort, he climbs back up my body, bracketing his hips between mine.

My legs wrap around the small of his back once again. One of his hands runs up my thigh and takes a firm grip when it lands on my hip. He lines himself up with my center and begins sinking into me .

This time, there’s far less resistance. There’s no pain, just a fullness that has pleasure burning in the pit of my stomach.

“Is this better?” he asks. His eyes are full of worry, but his voice sounds strained.

“Yes, much better,” I assure him. “Kiss me, please?” I beg.

His mouth captures mine as he continues working himself in, inch by inch. This kiss isn’t like any other we’ve had. It’s sloppy, hungry, and broken up by both of us gasping for air.

Once he’s buried to the hilt, he drags himself nearly all the way back out before sinking back in. I throw my head back with a cry.

“God, you feel so good,” I pant out.

We’re so caught up in the moment that we’re barely speaking. The room is filled with a mix of heaving breaths, his skin against mine, and his name falling from my mouth.

For every moan I choke out, he’s swallowing it with his mouth over mine. I didn’t even know two people could be this close. It doesn’t even feel like we’re two separate beings in this moment.

I know this is playing with fire but there’s no backing out now. The fire is lit and I’m standing in the middle of it.

Part of me can’t help but feel like this might be the thing that burns my life to the ground. Another part of me would light it myself if it meant having this.