“You never have to apologize. Not to me.” Russ hooked a finger beneath Sage's chin. His mouth had tightened to a fierce slash, but his touch was whisper gentle as he swept tears away with the pads of his thumbs, and then leaned in to kiss the dome of her forehead. “And I do love you….”
His voice trailed off. Instead of finishing with hurtful words that would attach conditions to that love, he only shuddered out a world-weary sigh. He scooted closer to her and they sat there for the longest moment with his chin resting on the crown of her head. The silence between them was almost as intense as Sage’s longing for the invisible monster that separated them to show itself.
Maybe then, she could defeat it.
She wanted her old Russ back, the one he’d been before the war.
The one she still loved.
“Here.” She pulled her love beads off and worked them over his head. “You need to get with the Free Generation, because that soldier boy haircut ain’t gonna fly at Woodstock.”
“You deserve better than me.” Though the corners of his mouth tipped to a tight smile, his voice was husky with emotion. He lifted Sage to straddle his lap and wound her tight in his arms. She could feel his pulse beating a frantic rhythm beneath her cheek.
His thumb brushed the outer curve of her breast. She rocked against him until her nether lips splayed across his fly. The pressure of a button against her clit was exquisite. Moisture slicked her folds until the tang of her desire hung thick in the air.
His grip on her tightened. God, he still wanted her. She could tell. So what was holding him back? Just then, he shifted. Broad hands skimmed her body until they settled at her waist and urged her up onto her knees. His fists rucked the fabric of her skirt higher until his palms splayed across her ass. She wiggled, relishing the feel of his flesh on hers. The throaty groan that resulted delighted her.
“You aren’t wearing any panties.”
“Thought you’d never notice,” she rasped. Breathless. Tingling.
“You don’t play fair,” he said. One finger grazed the crevice of her butt.
“Love is war, baby.” Standing atop the stone, she tugged on Russ’s hand, urging him to do the same. Her fingers trembled as they worked the buttons of his fly until the head of his cock was free. She slicked her thumb over its thickening tip.
The ferocity of his shudder caused her pussy to clench. Dizzy with her newfound erotic power, her fingertips swirled over his rigid flesh. With her head tipped back to gauge his reaction, she explored the heavy vein that mapped his length. His cock all but ignited in her palm.
God, he was dangerously huge. And she wanted to take every inch of him high inside her. Her pulse pounded a maddening cadence in her folds.
Maybe the dream angel that had stoked this erotic fire in her wasn’t real. But Russ was, had always been. And she had to have him. Now
“Sweet Jesus, Russ, if you can’t love me, then please just fuck—”
Before she could finish, Russ’s mouth had already claimed hers.
****
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***
Note...due to a technical snafu, the excerpt on the book's buy page isn't mine. The excerpt above is an official excerpt from Wicked Temptation. The coding error on the book's buy page will be rectified as soon as possible. I apologize in advance for any resulting confusion.
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