Spike: (#3.5 The Beat and the Pulse) Read Online Free PDF Page A

mine,” he murmured.
    “I’d make a grab for your dick, but you already know that’s mine.”
    “That’s my dirty talkin’ Spitfire.”
    Moving to straddle him, I wrapped my arms around his neck. His hand followed and began to rub against my clit, making my body come alive. One thing that hadn’t changed was my desire for his touch, and I doubted it ever would. He was able to coax pleasure out of me like I’d never known, and I took that as a sign we were made for each other.
    Our lips met like they had so many times before, and our tongues delved, tasting the desire that began to burn brightly. Ash’s fingers rubbed against my clit harder, working the seam of my shorts against the ball of nerves, and I moved my hips back and forth.
    His gaze met mine as he pulled his lips away, and he murmured, “I want in.”
    Running my hands over his jaw, I delighted in the sensation of his stubble against my skin. “Then get in.”
    Rising to his feet with me still wrapped around him, he carried me down the hall, through the master bedroom, and straight into the ensuite.
    Pressing my back against the wall, I clamped my legs tightly around his waist and gasped as he began to rub his crotch against mine. He was as hard as a rock underneath all of those clothes, and I wasn’t just talking about his muscles.
    “Dry humping?” I asked with a sigh as he kissed my neck.
    “Wait for it, Spitfire,” he replied, his lips hot against my skin. “Don’t mess with the process.”
    “There’s a process?” I asked, taking the piss even as he was making me hot and bothered in the most satisfying way.
    “Don’t.” Kiss . “Question.” Lick . “It.” Bite .
    I mewled in protest as he let me go and as I unwrapped my legs, my feet found the floor beneath me.
    Peeling off my T-shirt and stepping out of my shorts, I pulled up the hem of his shirt and wrenching it over his head. The tattoo that covered his entire front was a thing of beauty, just like the body displaying it. Stars and swirls were etched into his skin along with the three most important words that made up the life of Ash Fuller.
    Rage. Heart. Rebirth.
    Rage for his uncontrollable anger, which we had been able to tame together, heart for all the unconditional love in his life and rebirth for the life we’d found together.
    Running my hands over his chest, I kissed each word as he pushed down his shorts and boxers, freeing his erection. His hands came back to my hair, twisting as he held me in place . Putting his mouth on mine , he greedily swiped his tongue and kissed me hard as my lips became swollen under his onslaught. I responded in kind, my hands grasping onto his shoulders for dear life. This man kissed exactly the way he fought. Without rules, with calculated skill and with unbridled passion.
    Jerking away, he wrapped an arm around my waist and spun me around until my back was pressed against his chest. Walking me across the bathroom, he positioned me in front of the marble-topped vanity and the floor to celling mirror behind it.
    The tiles were warm underneath my feet, and as he held me firm, our gazes locked in the reflection before us. My entire body was on show, and all I could see of his was his broad shoulders and the edges of his tattoo curling over his skin. Leaning back, I pressed my body against his, feeling his hard erection against my ass. Reaching behind, I grasped his hips , then trailed my fingers back and down until I was holding his firm ass in my palms. One of his best assets if I was going to get all appreciative. Digging my fingers into his skin, I thrust my hips backward, grinding against his cock.
    Damn , it was a sight to see us wrapped together like this.
    “Damn, Spitfire,” he groaned. “You know all the right moves.”
    I let my head fall into the crook of his neck as his hands came up to cup my breasts. He began to massage them in his big palms, his fingertips rolling and pinching my hardened nipples.
    “Just so we’re clear,”