Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) Evie Mitchell (romantic novels in english .txt) 📖

“Are we going to make out?” Breathless, I simultaneously relaxed into his touch and tensed at the possibility of what came next.

“Oh yeah,” he growled, his voice hot with want. He made a rumbling sound in his throat. “Come kiss me.”

I shuffled over, hands hovering for a moment as I hesitated. I didn’t know where to position them.

He huffed out a chuckle, taking over. One hand was placed on his shoulder, the other on his thigh. He dropped his hands, clasping them loosely in his lap.

“You’re in control,” he whispered, breath brushing my cheek. “If I do anything you don’t like, just say no or push me away.”

I nodded, unable to speak. This was different to all the other times we’d kissed; granted we’d only had a handful of moments, but each had a layer of distance. When I wanted more, he’d slowed us down. He’d built the passion to a boil, then maintained it with an ease and experience I had no chance of meeting. When I wanted us to explode, to go higher, he’d withdrawn, gently, but making it clear it wasn’t going any further.

Tonight, I wanted more.

All week, living in his house, breathing in his scent, my freedom to look at him whenever and however I pleased. I’d burned to do more. I felt frustrated. So damn frustrated.

Now, in this moment, I could see his desire. Could feel the tension of his muscles under his clothes. Could see how he held himself back.

I wanted to break that restraint.

My thumb gently swept up and down his shoulder, my hand creeping closer to his neck. We were staring at each other, breath mingling, gaze hot with unspoken words.

My thumb hit the skin of his neck, and I sucked in a breath.

Could I?

I slowly moved my hand up until my fingers tangled in his hair. Slowly, oh so slowly, I drew him down to me.

Our mouths met and for one moment the kiss remained chaste. Then I flicked my tongue against his lips and it was game over. The moment of romance broken as heat and want clashed with unfulfilled desperation.

His hands came up, one going to my neck, the other to my good hip. His mouth greedily devoured mine, our lips clashing as we clung together. He tilted my head, granting him access to my neck. His lips feasted on sensitive spots, dragging moans from deep within me. My fingers tightened, drawing him closer, pressing his lips to my neck as hot delicious shots of raw energy spiralled through my body.

“Luc…” I groaned his name, moaned it. “I want…”

My other hand, the hussy, began her ascent. Slowly, ever so slowly, she inched up his leg. His big thigh felt hot under my palm. I hesitated for a moment, only a second as his lips left my neck to return to my mouth. Hot, hard, and wanting.

Fuck slow.

I brushed fingers against his crotch. Luc reared back, panting, his dark eyes molten as he stared at me, my face clasped between his hands, my palm now solidly pressed against his bulge.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say as I started to withdraw. He made a noise, a hot harsh sound of protest. One hand pulled me back to his mouth, the other shifted down to press my hand against his length.

It was my turn to moan.

As I stroked him through his jeans, his hand let go of mine, shifting to the hem of my shirt. I bucked, ignoring the twinge in my side as my need overruled any concern for my body.

I needed him to touch me. I wanted his hands, his mouth, his tongue on me. I wanted him to feel and touch every part of me.

He drew my shirt away from my body as his tongue danced with mine. Hot, wet, I wanted more.

His fingers brushed the sensitive curve of my hip. I moaned, scrambling to get closer. He pulled back, our gasping breaths loud in the van.

“I need–” I panted.

“I know.” He settled back in the seat, then helped me shift to straddle him, my butt firmly in his lap. “Okay?”

“Yes.” I nodded, hands moving to grab both of his. “Definitely.” I pulled one of his hands, pushing it under my top. His grin flashed as he took over. His other hand I pulled up, forcing his fingers into my hair. He got it, tangling his fingers in my strands.

“Greedy,” he whispered, still grinning.

I ignored him as I dropped a hand to his crotch, the other going to the belt buckle that prevented full access.

“Emmie…” He groaned, eyes closing, head dropping back as I stroked him through the material. “You don’t have to…”

His hand met the edge of my bra and I stilled, waiting.

His eyes opened, head coming up as his fingers gently pushed up the bra. “Okay?”

I made a small sound of affirmation.

His eyes flashed as he palmed my breast.

Holy fuck. Holy Jesus. OHMIGOD.

I pushed into him, unconsciously grinding on his lap as he played me, his expert fingers creating a symphony of sensation.

“More,” I demanded, eyes closed, mouth panting. “More.”

He shoved up my shirt, mouth closing over my nipple.

Hot. Mouth. Wet.

“Oh God!” I whimpered.

He licked and sucked my right breast as his clever, clever fingers teased my left. I’d dissolved into a puddle of wet wanton desire.

“Luc,” I panted, my pursuit of his cock long forgotten as both my hands kept him pinned to my breast. “Luc!”

His spare hand unzipped my jeans. He drew back, grunting. “Lift.”

I rose, willing to follow any command.

He returned to my breast as a hand slipped into my jeans. Through my underwear he touched me.

“Fuck. So wet,” he grunted. I groaned, pulling his head back to my breast as I pushed against his fingers.

“Luc… please.”

I didn’t know what I wanted. Or maybe I did. I didn’t know. I just knew I wanted more. More of this, more of him, more of how he made me feel.

His fingers dipped further, pushing aside my underwear.

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