What happens when the brewery prince falls for the mermaid and ends up endangering his entire kingdom?
He cupped it gently, and she pushed forward, encouraging him to get a little more forceful.
Taking the nipple between his thumb and finger, he gave the nub a small tug, and she moaned again.
Flicking her gaze up to his, her nod barely discernible. But he saw it.
Oh, fuck, did he see it.
He dipped his head and brought the same nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue as Brooke arched her back, letting her hair tumble down behind her.
She pressed her breast into his face and another one of those sexy moans rumbled up from the depths of her throat as she rocked against him.
She drove her fingers into his hair and held him in place. Held his face to her chest. His mouth to her nipple. All he could do was move to the other breast, sucking on that delicious raspberry and reveling in her moans and sharp inhales.
“Clint,” she whispered, yanking on his hair, to pull his mouth free and his head up. “Please …” She bit her bottom lip and glanced down between them to where they were dry humping, almost without even thinking about it. His hips rocked of their own volition, and it seemed hers did, too.
He nodded, and she carefully climbed off him, removing the shorts she wore so that she was very quickly naked. It wasn’t like she wore much to begin with. Just shorts and a tank top. No bra, no underwear.
He had a bit more work ahead of him and had to stand up and drop his jeans and boxers. He didn’t remove them completely, but once his cock was free—and much happier because of it—he sat back down. She went to climb on, but he stopped her. “I … I don’t think I have any condoms.”
“I have an IUD, and as soon as I found Flynn cheating, I got tested and haven’t been with anyone since.”
“I’m clean,” he said, his voice gravelly as his hands found her hips and he guided her back into his lap. “I haven’t been with anyone in … well, we had this discussion last night.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Might be a little rusty.”
Her smile took the last remaining molecules of oxygen from his lungs as she lifted onto her knees, reached between them and grabbed his cock, angling it to her center.
When that first bit of wet heat hit his cockhead, he nearly came on the spot.
Holy fuck.
“Hopefully, it’ll be like riding a bike,” she said, all sexy grins as she sank down, taking all of him inside her.
Her hands found his shoulders, and she started to lift and drop.
It was heaven. Pure. Fucking. Heaven.
She pressed her tits up toward his face, and he dropped his head to capture a nipple again, flicking it with his tongue. But she yanked on his hair hard enough to make him grunt and claimed his mouth again.
This woman took control.
He liked that.
He liked that she initiated things. He wasn’t taking advantage of a confused and vulnerable woman. She was leading this. She was setting the pace.
And Brooke’s pace seemed to be warp-speed, because as soon as their lips collided, she started to ride him less like a bicycle and more like a mechanical bull.
And the woman knew how to ride a mechanical bull.
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