“All you have to do is text me. Call me,” he promised, watching her eyes. “And whatever you want, however you want it.” The very thought of it had his voice darkening, the need to give her whatever she desired, sexually, tightening his balls. “And I’ll make sure you have it.”

“Kiss me, Doogan. Hard and deep . . .”

He didn’t wait. He couldn’t wait.

His lips covered hers, hard, his tongue pushing past her lips, stroking against hers, and he made zero allowances for the inexperience he knew she still possessed. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other cupped the delicate curve of her neck, and he ravished her lips, his tongue fucked her mouth.

When she asked for hard and deep, he’d seen the lack of knowledge in her eyes for what she was asking. There was such innocence . . . and he wanted to replace that innocence with knowledge. With sensual, sexual confidence that he alone gave her.

As he worked his lips over hers his tongue thrust past them, teased hers, tasted it until he swore he was becoming intoxicated by her, high on her kiss alone and loving every sweet, forbidden moment of it.

Soft, kittenish little mewls left her throat, the sound of them sparking a deeper, hotter hunger inside him, thoughts of all the sexual acts he could teach her racing through his senses.

For a moment he eased the intensity of the kiss. He had every intention of releasing her from the sensual, sexual spell deepening around both of them. He would have given her a reprieve, a chance to catch her breath. As he moved to pull back, sharp little teeth nipped his lips as her fingers jerked to his hair, tangling in the strands, tugging at them, nipping his lower lip again to demand more.

The innocent, playful act was like a match to gasoline. The dominant, dark core of male sexuality he possessed broke free, and even the small allowance he’d made for her innocence was forgotten.

He would brand her senses with him. No other man, or woman, would be enough. No other kiss would ever seem quite right. No one but Doogan would ever be enough when he was finished. This sweet, sensual little witch would always be his alone.

—

Zoey’s senses exploded with pleasure.

One hard hand gripped her hip, pulling her to the edge of the tailgate and holding her in place. A second later the hard, thick width of his jeans-covered cock ground against her sex as his tongue speared past her lips, pumping in and out of them in the same slow, destructive rhythm he used between her thighs.

He wasn’t just kissing her, he was fucking her with his tongue, possessing her with a kiss that had her vagina rippling with each push into her mouth, each hard thrust against her mound.

His lips slanted over hers, holding her in place with the delicious, explicit act before the hands in her hair began pulling at the long strands he held captive.

Sharp, intense pulses of sensation shot through her womb, straight to the depths of her core. Moisture eased along the passage, hot and sleek, spilling to the sensitive folds beyond.

Each thrust of his tongue against hers, each tug of her hair and driving thrust of his hips against the mound of her sex sent harsh, shattering arcs of sensation driving through her vagina. Her inner muscles clenched and spasmed, moisture wept slick and heated, coating her flesh, inside and out, preparing her, sensitizing her while her clit throbbed in peaked, painful need for touch.

And in the next second it was gone.

He stopped.

EIGHT

As Doogan pulled his head back, his hips stilled, the tightened sensations building in her clit pulsing in painful denial.

She ached for him. The pleasure of the night before hadn’t been forgotten and she wanted more. Needed more.

“Look at me.” The dark guttural sound of his voice had her eyes opening, her gaze connecting with his.

“You’re like a fucking drug that has hold of me,” he rasped, the brown of his eyes like deep, dark chocolate. “All I want to do is taste you, fuck you until we’re both drowning in the pleasure.”

“No one told you not to.” The breathy sound of her own voice surprised her.

Sliding her hands from his chest down over his abs to the leather belt cinching his hips, Zoey began working it free. Once it was loosened, she unbuttoned the metal tab, then moved her fingers to the zipper holding the material closed.

His hand caught her wrist, the other pulling at her head, dragging her head back again. “I came inside you last night.”

She blinked up at him in shock. “What?”

“I forgot to wear a condom, Zoey.” His voice, his expression, was iron hard. “I came inside you so fucking hard I thought I was dying, and I did it without protecting you.”

Her lips parted. “You do that often?”

“I have never fucking done something so irresponsible,” he snarled, his gaze burning into hers. “Never.”

“I’m protected.” She could barely breathe. It was the look on his face, in his eyes. He wasn’t angry, nor was he fighting any possible consequences, and she didn’t want to question why.

His jaw tightened. “I don’t have a condom with me now.”

She fought for breath now, excitement surging through her.

“I’m protected,” she repeated.

A second later she gasped when he lifted her again, her knees gripping his hips. He stalked around the truck, jerked open the door to the back, and placed her on the edge of the seat. A second later her shorts were pulled from her and the iron-hard width of his cock was pushing past the already slick folds of her sex.

Zoey couldn’t help but watch.

Thick, dark, the plum-shaped crest parted the swollen, juice-laden nether lips wide.

He paused then, pulling her gaze up to him.

His shirt cleared his head without the first button being undone. She was pretty sure she saw several of the small white buttons flying from the material, though.

Then he caught her beneath her knees and angled her hips up to him.

Zoey fell back, catching herself on her elbows, watching the broad cock head as it began pushing inside her. Slowly.

“Hard,” she begged, feeling the stretching bite of a pleasure-pain that wasn’t nearly enough.

“Not yet,” he groaned. “Let me watch, Zoey. Watch your sweet pussy open for me. Take me. Slow and easy.”

He worked inside her, just as he said, slow and easy, stretching her inner flesh, sending fiery lashes of sensation racing through her system.

Working inside her, push, retreat. As he pulled back, the thick coating of her natural lubrication clung to the thick, dark shaft. It glistened, covering his flesh even as it clung to hers.

“That’s it, little witch,” he groaned as the throbbing crest disappeared inside her again, parting her, the intimate folds hugging the stalk with a sheen of slick moisture. “Milk my cock inside you, Zoey. You’re so tight. So fucking hot and tight.”

One hand lifted, slid to the hem of her tank, and pushed it over her breasts, his glaze burning hotter as he stared at her swollen curves, the puckered, pebble-hard nipples.

He came over her then, his lips moving to the hard point of a nipple as his hips gave a hard, shallow thrust. Fiery pleasure pulsed inside her, that pleasure-pain sensation dragging a cry from her lips and shuddering through her.

His lips, teeth, and tongue worked over her nipples, one to the other, sucking deep and hard, nibbling with exquisite heat, and licking over them with hungry demand.

“Doogan.” The cry tore from her as he began thrusting harder, deeper inside her.

As he plunged the wide crest and broad stalk deep, the heavy veins throbbed with blood, rising beneath the silken flesh and creating an intense bite of sensation with each pounding stroke.