Free Storms and Dreams (Becoming Jane Book 3) by Alexis Adare Page A

want his sympathy. I didn’t need his patience.
    “No.” I pulled away. “Thomas, I need you .”
    His eyes searched mine, questioning. I stared back, silently pleading with him, hoping that somehow he might understand what I needed from him without me having to utter another word.
    Fuck me, I thought. This is too much right now. I don’t want to feel anything but your hands on me, your cock inside me. I can’t talk to you right now, can’t tell you how I feel. I can’t listen to you anymore, can’t listen to the sound of my heart pounding louder than the waves against the shore. Just fuck me, Thomas. Don’t give me your understanding or your sweetness, just fuck me until I can’t think anymore. Make this all go away for a while.
    “Okay,” he said, as if reading my mind.
    His mouth crashed into mine, his tongue forcing between my lips before I had a chance to acquiesce. He plunged inside, dominating, stilling my movements, until he was fucking my mouth and I was letting him, helpless in his grip. I moaned into his mouth when I felt his cock, hard and insistent against my hip, and a wave of lust rushed through me. I felt faint, stars pricking at the edge of my vision. I pushed at his chest. Breaking the kiss, I gulped for air, and stumbled backwards, needing just a moment to clear my head, just a moment to get myself together so I could see straight, feel straight. I turned and ran smack into a huge outcrop of waist high boulders, then tripped and fell forward over the nearest one, ass up, feet dangling, chest planted into a cold wet pillow of snow. He was on me in an instant, his hands pulling the puffy coat from my body, his arm crossing over my chest to pull my body back against his as he scrambled out of his coat. He gripped my jaw firmly, angling my face to his. He kissed me again, his tongue lashing over my lips and past them to pillage my mouth furiously. His other hand snaked under my sweater and found the edge of my bra, pushing it up, all of it up, until my breasts sprang free, my nipples knotting painfully in the cold sea air.
    “Jane,” he rasped. His hand paused, hovering over my breasts. “Tell me. Should I keep going—”
    “Don’t you dare…” I croaked, realizing what he meant to do. My eyes flicked to the hard rock in front of us, its snow covered surface, the cold raw aura of our surroundings. My inner muscles clenched at the thought, my panties flooding with anticipation. He’d heard my silent plea. He knew exactly what I needed, and he meant to give it to me. “Don’t you dare stop,” I said. “And I’m fucking serious.”
    He growled at my words, and pressed me forward, bending me over the rock, forcing my naked breasts into the cold crisp snow. His hands gripped my hips, found the front of my jeans, and pulled them open, yanking the denim down and pinning my knees together. I felt leather grazing up my naked thighs, the warm exploration of his hands a stark contrast to the blast of cold air that met my skin.
    “God, yes,” I whispered. “More.”
    His hands stopped at my hips and I heard the sound of fabric ripping, then felt my panties give way. Something flew over my head and landed to my right. I turned my head, the snow scraping my nipples painfully as I moved, and saw the panties, bright red, a vulgar flash of color in the pristine snow. He inhaled sharply, his gloved hands running up over the length of my back, over my ass and down. It was so good. The leather against my skin felt dirty and dangerous. I tried to move, to push my body against him, to get more contact.
    “Don’t move,” he growled, pushing me down hard.
    My nipples felt raw and painfully aroused, the snow numbing them to the point that they were starting to throb.
    “Please,” I whispered.
    He slapped my ass, and my body jolted at the contact, the leather meeting my skin with a loud “crack!”
    “Oh, fuck!” I shouted.
    “We’ll get to that,” he said. “Shut up. Remember? I like to delay