Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3) by V. L. Brock

away. My hands were gripped by his and before I had a chance to ask what he was sorry for, he was already tugging my body up off the mattress, and the white T-shirt I was wearing, was lifted over my head and tossed over his shoulder to the end of the bed. “…But I need you, now.”
    Squealing springs masked the low feral groan vibrating from him as I fell back. Under his burning scrutiny, seeking, predatory eyes, pinned me to the mattress, from between my legs. His jaw tightened as if demonstrating his restraint, while the perfect canvas marred with brutal scars sang out to me, urging to be felt. For a brief moment, I was tortured by, not the sight of the pale, leather-like flesh over his heart, but by the story of how it came to be. The heartrending pain and anguish of his terse words in the shower filled my eyes and caused my heart to billow.
    Yet, the depressing thought was stripped from my memory as he panted, “you’re fucking gorgeous, darlin’. Even in my boxers,” and his thumbs instantly began burrowing beneath the waistband. Down my legs his shorts were drawn then tossed to their fate to meet the T-shirt. I reached my hands out to him, beckoning him closer. With a roguish grin, he complied, leisurely lowering his body onto mine.
    The rivalry between my body’s own restraint and the concoction of blissful sensations which he tortured my nakedness with, proved void with the eliciting of my arching back and the quivering of sensitive nerve endings. His lips worked fluidly against my own before he tore them away and paved sensuous wet trails over my jaw, neck and throat. His tongue, feeling like heated satin, slithered up my throat prompting my swallowing reflex, the air fused with the trail he had left behind leaving a cool, damp streak over my fiery flesh before sinking his teeth into my chin.
    When he took my left nipple into the damp heat of his mouth and drew it into a straining peak, I didn’t know how much of the heavenly agony I could withstand. I needed him like he needed me. And that need was too powerful to draw out.
    “Walker, please…” I gasped, his skillful, workman, calloused hands scoured up my thigh and seized behind my knee. When he hooked me over his hip and ground his hips into me simultaneously, it was as though we fit perfectly.
    “God, Kady, you don’t realize how much I––” my lips crashed back against his, swallowing the declaration that was only mere second away from being told, a declaration which, if I was correct, was one that I really wasn’t ready to hear.
    The working muscles of his back were thoroughly studied by my hands. The prominence of his shoulder blades, the muscles shielding his ribs, all the way to the twin dimples on his lower spine as my fingertips sunk into their indents.
    “I can’t take much more of this,” I panted, our foreheads touching. The Indian Ocean which brought so much comfort within such time, stared down upon me. His lower lip trembled, his brows pulled in a fraction as he demonstrated a bountiful degree of patience. I lifted my hand, my fingertips grazing over the dark facial hair around his mouth, before tracing over his lips. Flashing him my bedtime eyes, I lowered my head, coquettish. “I need you, Walker. I need to feel…”
    Words were slain when, bracing his weight through his left forearm next to my head, his right hand slipped between us and his towel was instantly tugged free, leaving us flesh on flesh. His need for me was evident as it pressed against my heated core. Before I knew it, his hips were pulling back and the broad crown of his extraordinary length was breaching my body, working slowly and magnificently inside of me.
    With the perfect amount of force, and my body bowing to his demands as he overtook my being, each thrust and each decadent inch of what my body was molding to, I accepted and luxuriated in.
    The cotton of the pillow was cool against my scalp as my head rolled. Burying himself to the root, he plunged his