Twist My Heart Brooke Taylor (classic books to read .TXT) 📖

to win whatever prize awaited me at the end, even if it killed me. And good lord, I might die the most deliriously wonderful death if it did.

“Get used to it, Tigger. I’m going to give you lots to think about.” His fingers teased a circle through my hair before skirting down my neck. His thumb settled against the pulse there. The tha-thumping pound of life rushed through my veins, so much stronger whenever he touched me. But with the way he was touching me now—dancing and dipping dangerously into my dark places—my pulse threatened to burst right through my skin. The fact it hadn’t yet made me feel invincible.

His hold slid from my neck, his fingertips stuttering across my skin. His brows furrowed as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was feeling. His caress skimmed down the side of my breast and the slope of my side, until his grip bit hungrily into my hip. The only loss of his control he’d allowed me to witness.

Desire and need coursed through me like nothing I could’ve ever imagined. I edged my legs edged wider, inviting him closer. Unable to hold it together any longer, I let my jaw drop open. His mouth crushed into my gaping one, less to kiss me and more to silence me. His tongue wrapped with mine, giving it something to do other than alert every mall cop in a mile radius to the glorious debauchery taking place in the women’s lingerie department.

Bracing himself again, he broke free from my mouth, momentarily breathless. His eyes feral, despite his tender, whispered words. “Forgive me for making this fast. We don’t want the saleslady to check on you and have a heart attack.”

His tongue pushed in again, filling my mouth at the same time as a thick, strong finger thrust deep inside of me. My eyelids dropped as I absorbed this new wave of awesome pleasure.

His open palm slapped the glass mirror, the noise punctuating the way he pulled his mouth from mine as if it took some force and pain for him to do so. “Open.” My eyes, legs, and sex all responded to his low command. “I want you to see what you do to me.”

What I do to him? I was the one whose body was spiraling feverishly out of control.

I hitched a knee up his thigh, taking it as high as I could go. Soon I was digging my heel into his hardened ass as I tried desperately to hold on while the earth seemingly crumbled beneath me. He hooked his arm under my other knee and lifted my whole body off the ground as he pushed upright. My back, bare save for a few thin straps, flattened against the cold mirror taking most of my weight as I slid upward.

His hot mouth came down over my mesh-covered breast. The spearing tip of his tongue flickered over the silky yet abrasive fabric. His teeth gently and not-so-gently took my sensitive nipple over and over again through the delicate netting, wrecking any grasp on sanity I might’ve dared to believe I had.

His finger thrust several lusciously deep strokes before I felt it crook and make a ‘come here’ motion. I willingly obliged. Right here. Right now. Yes, sir. Not that I had much choice. I was driven over the edge of stability and control instantaneously. I couldn’t tell if I was plummeting downward or soaring upward, only that I didn’t want to ever stop tumbling. Never. Ever.

He’d had two commands—stay quiet and keep my eyes open. Both were now losing battles. Bundles of nerves and energy rolled up, tightly fisting before shattering and pulsing through me as my body bucked in the palm of his hand.

My eyes rolled back behind my closing lids, blocking the hot intensity burning in his. If he objected, I couldn’t hear it. A string of amazed curses and holy affirmations hit high decibels in my mind. I struggled to silence my primal cries, resorting to biting down on my own forearm as the storm shuddered through me. I didn’t care if I left teeth marks. I didn’t care if I drew blood. Pleasure like this had to come with some pain.

“You’re fucking gorgeous. But you coming for me…” He growled against my breast. “How am I supposed to handle this kind of beauty?”

Only when my nerve endings quelled to an occasional pulsing roil and my body hung limp, slumped against his shoulder, did he lower me back to the ground, withdrawing his hand from my panties.

He moved like he was supercharged while I drifted along in a haze of happiness. Cupping my shoulder, he whirled me to face the mirror. My palms splayed out on the fogged glass to stabilize me from turning into a puddle on the floor. I didn’t recognize the thoroughly sated look in my eyes as my reflection stared nose-to-nose back at me, but it was all me for the first time since the tornado.

With a grin, he pulled his knife out of his pocket and flicked the wicked blade out. In two quick strikes, he’d sliced the tags off the lingerie set. “I’ll go pay for these and let the saleslady know you’ll be wearing them out.”

Over my shoulder, he looked into my mirrored reflection, his expression full of pride as he tilted his head and lifted a brow. “And you didn’t think I could get you done in one, Tiggs.”

My brain, still floating in tranquil mush, barely questioned his unusual comment. My mind knew about orgasms being pleasurable, but in no way did it prepare me for what had happened to my body.

“You know, you can talk now, Tigger. Quiet Game’s over. You won. Say something.”

All I could manage was a breathy, sighed, gasping, gulping, “Holy… Wow… Nik. That was a surprise.”

A slow, knowing smile spread over his lips at my stunned response. He palmed my ass cheek with a patting grasp. “Oh, Tigger, this is nothing compared to the other surprises I