Free Seduced by the Storm by Sydney Croft Page A

was
ragged and rough, blessed evidence that he was as affected by the white-hot
chemistry between them as she was. "Tell me. Say it."
    "Yes,"
she whispered, gripping his shoulders, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to
pull him closer or push him away. "I feel it, damn you."
    "That’s
good, baby. That’s good." A second finger joined the first, his hand
creating a slow, easy rhythm that she undulated her hips to, wanting deeper,
faster.
    "Now
unzip me."
    He
stepped back, withdrawing his fingers from her body. As she reached for the
zipper tab, he brought them to his mouth. His gaze held hers, forcing her to
watch as he sucked the evidence of her desire from his fingers.
    "Oh,
sweet Jesus…"
    Blood
pounded in her ears and her sex throbbed to the same beat. Unable to move, she
remained rooted to the spot until he’d licked himself clean. When he finished,
he grabbed her hand in his and forced her to drag down the zipper on his
drysuit.
    Not
that he truly had to force her, but she’d frozen in some sort of lust-shock,
something that had never happened to her before. She’d had lots of sex, had
been in lust several times. But what Wyatt did to her went way beyond anything
she’d experienced; the way he made her feel so feminine, dominated—and yet,
worshipped.
    He
wasn’t making her do anything. He was making her want to do anything.
    He
peeled himself out of his suit, and she salivated at the sight of him naked,
his magnificent length jutting upward so hard, the tip curved into his six-pack
abs. She reached for him, but he caught her around the waist with both hands
and lifted her.
    "I
have to taste more of you. Grab the pipe."
    Above
her, a network of pipes and wire runs coiled deep into the overhead. Unsure of
his intention, but on fire and crazed with need, she seized a metal tube with
both hands. At the same time, he heaved her up so that her thighs came down on
his broad shoulders and his mouth met her pussy. She didn’t even have time to
gasp before he speared her with his tongue.
    "Yes,"
she moaned. "Oh, God, yes." She gripped the pipe so tightly she was
afraid it might crack, and when she started to rock her hips, he tightened his
hold on her ass, where he held her firmly against him.
    He
lapped at her with an almost out-of-control hunger, his tongue first sweeping
her inner walls and then swiping up the length of her. Broad, fast licks met
deep, stabbing penetrations. Pure, erotic sensation assaulted her—her body, her
mind—and she heard herself begging for release. He didn’t tease; he caught her
clit between his lips and suckled hard and it was all she could do to hang on
to the pipe and not scream as she came apart.
    The
moment she stopped bucking, Wyatt slid her down his body. In one smooth, raw
move, he entered her and forced her back against the lockers. One arm went
behind her to bear the brunt of her weight against the metal, and the other
held her thigh so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She locked her
booted feet at the base of his spine and held on for the ride.
    His
eyes were wild, emerald lasers of possession as he pumped into her with the
same focus and near-desperate need he’d displayed when he’d feasted on her sex.
    "Faith." A low moan vibrated his chest. His lips drew back,
baring his teeth. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect. Can’t…wait."
    He
threw back his head and surged into her, his thick shaft stretching her,
heating her, making her burn. The tendons in his neck strained, the veins in
his arms bulged on top of rolling muscles, and oh, he was a thing of masculine
beauty. A force of nature no less powerful than the monster machine two decks
above them.
    The
sounds in the room, from their panting breaths to the slap of skin on skin,
even the metallic clanking of something distant, heightened her desire, made
her pulse catch, her blood sizzle, and then she was coming, moaning through the
pleasure. He was right there with her, his breath hissing between