Page 42

MAKE ME TREMBLE

TEMPEST

“ T empest.” Just my name, but the way he said it made my skin tingle. “I want you so fucking bad, but I want you to be sure you want to do this.”

I wasn’t sure of anything except that I wanted him, this connection, this moment, wanted to feel his skin against mine. I nodded. “I’m sure. I want to be with you. I want you.”

He moved toward me slowly, like I was something precious that might spook. He stroked his knuckles down my cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. “I’m going to keep checking in with you every step of the way, and you tell me yes or no, or to stop, or even please, more. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl. Now I’m going to kiss you until you go weak in the knees.”

Ooph. He didn’t even have to actually kiss me, I was already feeling a bit wobbly. Good girl? Was he kidding me with the words straight out of the pages of my dirtiest scenes?

But he didn’t kiss me, he simply stared down at me with those dark and sparkling eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” The words were barely a whisper, and I wasn’t even sure that was my voice breaking the silence.

“For you to tell me yes or no.”

Oh. Holy cojónes. Why was the way he was asking for my consent so freaking hot? “Kiss me, please, kiss me.”

“That’s my girl.” His lips met mine, soft and warm and perfect. Unlike our beach kiss, this one started slow, unhurried. His mouth moved against mine with exquisite care, as if he had all the time in the world to learn what made me sigh, what made me melt.

And melt I did. Right into a puddle of goo.

Sweet baby Jesus, what was my name again?

His hand bunched up one side of my dress, a thumb peeking underneath, barely caressing the skin of my upper thigh.

He broke the kiss, brushing his lips across mine as I tried so hard to find where my breath had gone.

“I want your dress off. I’ve been dying to see what you look like in nothing but a few scraps of lingerie. ”

I swallowed, then nodded. My bra and panties weren’t exactly fancy lingerie, but they did match and had bits of lace on them. I’d picked them out special, just to feel sexy, not really knowing if he’d ever see them. Now I very much wanted him to see every stitch. “Take it off.”

His fingers were warm as they slipped beneath the fabric, skimming up my stomach, over my chest and shoulders.

Slowly, reverently, he unwrapped me like a gift, his eyes taking in every inch of exposed skin with such open appreciation that not once did I feel the urge to cover myself or hide from his gaze.

“You’re better than every fucking wet dream I’ve ever had,” he murmured, his voice almost awed. “So soft, and lush.”

No one had ever looked at me the way Flynn did, like I was everything he’d ever wanted. Not like an afterthought or the ugly duckling, but like I was exactly right, exactly as I should be.

He dropped the dress to the floor, and I stood before him, bare and vulnerable. His eyes traveled over me, leaving heat in their wake. “I’m going to worship every inch of your body, my queen.”

“Yes,” I said, gaining courage from the desire in his eyes. “But first, it’s my turn.”

“God, you are such a turn on. Take your turn with me, sweet storm of mine.”

My hands were clumsy finding the hem of his still-damp shirt. He raised his arms obligingly, letting me pull it over his head. Water droplets traced paths down his torso, and I followed their journey with my fingers, exploring the ridges and planes of him.

I could write sonnets about how gorgeous he was, a whole soliloquy to that vee of muscles at his waist, an ode to that tempting swatch of hair at his belly that dipped below his belt, the one that tempted me to touch, and follow it down, down, down.

He stood perfectly still, letting me take my time, though I could see the tension in his muscles, feel the restraint in his shallow breathing. My hands moved to his belt, fumbling slightly with the buckle. Flynn’s hands covered mine, steadying them.

“No rush,” he murmured. “We have all night.”

Together we undid his belt, then the button of his jeans. I slid the zipper down, feeling him hard beneath the fabric. Heat flooded my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. No, I pushed the wet denim down his legs, kneeling to help him step out of them.

The pure, unadulterated need on his face as he looked down at me on my knees in front of him gave me a surge of feelings I’d never in my life experienced before. I... I think it was a sense of feminine power. The knowledge that I was everything he wanted and more.

Only with him. He was the only one who I ever wanted to make me feel that way.

I ran my hands up his thighs, feeling the powerful muscles tense beneath my touch. The bulge in the front of his boxer briefs grew even bigger, and I bit my lip, staring up at him.

“You’re shivering,” he said, his own voice not entirely steady.

“I’m not cold,” I admitted. “Just... nervous.”

His expression softened. “Nothing has to happen, Tempest. Remember, you can say stop at any time. We’ll crawl under those blankets and simply keep each other warm. We’ll sleep or talk or?—”

“What if I want something to happen?”

His eyes widened slightly, then darkened with heat. His hand came down to cradle my chin, his touch impossibly gentle. “Then we go as slow as you need. And you tell me what you want, every step of the way. ”

“I want to see you. All of you,” I whispered. “But I’ve never...” I started, then stopped, embarrassment washing over me.

“I know,” he said simply.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I was captured in his gaze.

He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You told me after our first kiss, and it doesn’t scare me, Tempest. I told you I want to be the one who gets to do all of your firsts with you.”

“Even if I have no idea what I’m doing?” That was definitely not what I wanted to be thinking about right now.

“Yeah.” His thumb traced my lower lip, sending shivers down my spine. “It means you trust me. And trust like that is sexy as hell.”

His words eased something inside me, a knot of anxiety I hadn’t fully acknowledged. I did trust him, and he was trusting me in return. He was right. That was sexy as hell.

I slid my hands further up his thighs and reached for the waistband of his boxers. He didn’t move a centimeter as I pulled them down his hips and then his thighs until he was completely exposed to me.

Okay, it’s not like I hadn’t seen a penis before. I watched plenty of... well, some people called it porn, but I called it research for my books. But seeing Flynn, so hard, so big, knowing it was because of me and what I was doing for him, made me ache in all the best ways.

I reached for him, but paused just before I touched. It was my turn to ask for his consent. “Can I touch you?”

His "yes" was nearly a growl, raw and eager .

I took him in my hand, wrapping my fingers around his cock. He was hot and hard and almost silky smooth. The sound he made when I stroked him sent a fresh wave of heat through me.

“Tempest,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

“Good,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness. “I want to.”

I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his tip, darting my tongue out to taste him. Flynn’s hand slid into my hair and he gripped a handful of it, sending ripples of heat through my scalp. “Tempest.”

The harsh groan in his voice stopped me and I looked up. God, I hoped I wasn’t already doing this all wrong. I was trying to remember how I’d written scenes like this and channeled my inner heroine.

“I’m the one who is supposed to be making you tremble, not the other way around.” His voice did indeed have the slightest tremor to it. Because of me.

“Don’t you want me to?” I licked my lips, full well knowing I was teasing him and I liked it.

“To suck my cock?” He said those words so easily, even if his voice was one hundred percent feral werewolf at the moment. “Yeah, I do. You have no idea how much. But one inch, hell, one millimeter into your mouth, and I’m going to come faster than some untried schoolboy.”

“I want to see you come.” I don’t know who this inner wanton was, but I liked her and hoped she’d stick around. Before I got another word out of my mouth though, Flynn grabbed me up princess style.

Like, full-on, picked me up and took the three steps across the room. I was so shocked, I didn’t even have time to squeal before he quite literally tossed me on the bed like I was some kind of fluffy pillow.

Then he crawled right up and over me, caging me under his body. “I have no doubt you’re going to make me come, hard. But I have one more rule and I’m not willing to break this one.”

I blinked up at him, finding it hard to do much more than breathe with all his attention, his barely contained sexual need, not to mention all those muscles, focused directly on me. Somehow I found two words and plucked them out of the sweltering air between us. “What rule?”

“You come first. Always. Got it?”

If I hadn’t already been on fire, and very wet, I would be now.

I’d written about how the guys in my books had their minds go on the fritz because all their blood went straight to their dicks when they were turned on.

I didn’t expect it to ever happen to me.

But hot damn if my pussy wasn’t pulsing in time with my heart, and my brain had only the capacity to whimper, “Uh-huh.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he smiled and licked his lips. “Now I’m going to taste every single bit of you, and make you come for me.”

But just like that first kiss, he didn’t move, waiting for my affirmation.

“Please.” The word came out breathier than I’d intended.

His lips moved to my throat, then paused. “I’m going to taste you here.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t just kiss me, he scraped his teeth and then tongue across my skin. Then his mouth moved down and hovered just above my bra.

“I need your bra gone.”

I nodded, then remembering his need for verbal confirmation, whispered, “Do it, take it off.”