Navarro's Promise - Lora Leigh [67]
She had him there. But he noticed the confrontation was increasing that hint of a summer rain as her pussy grew wetter, hotter.
The remembered taste of that soft flesh had the glands beneath his tongue swelling further, the mating hormone spilling to his mouth in increments as he fought the need to kiss her.
Not yet. He wasn’t ready yet.
“Amaya, you are never canceled out,” he assured her. “I believe perhaps it’s a two-way street if we’re placing blame. Because as I understand it, only you could have awakened that ability within me.”
“Go ahead, pawn the blame off.” Her hands flattened against his stomach above the silk of his shirt. “You’re good at that Navarro. I’ve noticed you never take the blame for anything.”
“But, Amaya, there’s so many so very capable of taking the blame,” he drawled.
Amaya. Night rain. This was what she reminded him of. A soft, sultry summer night’s rain. Soft, warm, caressing. Stroking not just the flesh but also the senses.
“I’m not one of them.” Her lashes drifted over her eyes as her expression softened and her face flushed with the pleasure rising inside her.
Stroking his fingertips down her neck, he came to the loose neckline of the sweater and hated the clothing covering her nakedness from him.
He wanted her here, and he wanted her now.
“I followed you when you left the house,” he told her. “As you walked here, I could smell the sweetest hint of summer in the air.”
The rush of dampness between her thighs teased his senses.
“That’s enough,” she whispered. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me ache like this, Navarro.”
“Should I ache alone then?” Trailing his fingers over her breast, down, he tracked a path to the hem of her sweater as he watched the rise and fall of the soft mounds increase.
Pushing his hand beneath her sweater, he fought soft, feminine flesh.
He could take her here, he told himself. Turn her, press her to the trunk of the tree. He could push inside her and warm them both with the heat of her need.
Her pussy would milk him in, suck at the head of his dick until he found himself fully seated inside her.
The thought of it was enough to have his cock throbbing beneath his jeans. Or rather, throbbing harder. He’d never lost the hard-on he’d been packing before he fucked her earlier. Hell, he’d come like he was dying as he was locked inside her, and still the erection hadn’t abated.
“See, this is why Breeds were on my ‘no date’ list.” She was huffing with charming irritation. “You never pay attention.”
“I would pay more attention if you weren’t rubbing your pussy against my thigh, Amaya.”
Her eyes widened as surprise glittered in the golden green depths. Her hips paused; the sensual little motions she’d been making against his leg had been about to drive him insane. The heat of her pussy had been like a brand against his thigh. He missed the feel of it grinding against him and the invitation inherent in the motions.
She inhaled slowly, deeply, as his knees dipped, placing his cock against the juncture of her thighs as his hands gripped her hips, lifted her just enough and notched his cock against the sweet pad beneath her jeans.
“I could take your jeans down, lift you and let you ride me.” He swore his cock thickened impossibly at the very thought of it. “Or I could turn you and just ease your jeans to your thighs and take you from behind. Do you think, Mica, that the chill of the air would ease the heat that will burn inside us?”
He didn’t think it possible that anything could ease the heat torturing him at the moment, or the rain of liquid fire he knew was spilling between her thighs.
Her head fell back against the trunk, her breathing short and jerky as she stared back at him.
“I think this is a very bad idea,” she answered, her voice weak as his finger moved to the snap of her jeans.
“I’ve decided what I would prefer,” he told her as his head lowered to her