PrimalDesign by Danica Avet Page A

or April to make love
to her on the hood. For now though, he’d play with her and hopefully keep his
cock in his pants.
    Kitty looked down at him, her dark eyes wide, her lips
parted on panted breaths. “Kiss me, Monk.”
    He slid his hands into her short hair, cupping the back of
her skull. He kissed her with everything he had, trying to convey to her
exactly how much he needed her, loved her and wanted her. He tried to tell her
with the almost reverent way he brushed his lips against hers, in the way he
kissed the corners of her mouth, or when he nibbled on her bottom lip. She was
gasping by the time his tongue delved between her lips, her sweet and spicy
taste flooding him.
    Her hands scrambled against his shoulders, clutching him
tighter to her, her breasts pressed into his chest. The heat in the car was
getting unbearable as his temperature began to rise. Remembering he still wore
his jacket, Monk tried to get out of the fucking torture device, but it was too
tight in the shoulders now. He’d had to strain to get in it in the first place.
    His flailing tore his mouth from Kitty’s and one of his
hands slapped her shoulder. “Ow! What are you doing?” she asked in a breathless
voice.
    “I’m trying,” he grunted and sat forward only to press her
into the steering wheel, or rather the horn, which let out a loud bleat,
“fuck.” He sat back against his seat. “I’m trying to get out of this fucking
jacket.”
    He grunted again, still struggling with the sleeves when he
felt her shaking against him. Startled, he looked up to see she had her hand
pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide with laughter as she giggled.
    “Think that’s funny, huh?” he asked, relaxing back against
his seat. She nodded with her hand still over her mouth, looking so damn
beautiful it made his heart ache. He smiled at her. “It’s probably a good thing
I couldn’t get out of this jacket because I didn’t bring you here to make love
to you.”
    Her laughter died. “You didn’t?”
    Monk shook his head, his hands coming to rest on her bare
knees. “Nope. I came here to make out with you. Clothes on.”
    She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “But I’m
horny now.”
    He coasted his hands up her long, silken thighs. “I can take
care of that,” he murmured as he came closer and closer to the edge of her
shorts. “Lift your shirt over your breasts.”
    “No. You said clothes on,” she told him with that damn
stubborn tilt to her chin.
    He shrugged, his thumbs flirting beneath the edge of her
shorts, close to the wet heat of her cunt. “That’s okay, I can work around
that.”
    Leaning forward, he captured one of her hard nipples through
the thin material of her top, his thumbs finding her slick flesh. She wasn’t
wearing panties. Again. He almost came right then and there. He definitely
liked this new Kitty. Hell, he loved her and not just because she seemed to
have developed an aversion to underwear. She was smart and funny and tough.
    “Oh God,” she moaned, her back arching in an offer to him.
“Monk.”
    He fucking loved hearing her say his name like that too. To
reward her, he slid one of his hands beneath the gaping material of her shorts
to touch her pussy. With her legs straddling his hips, her sleek lips were
spread open, exposed. And all his.
    “Oh yes.” More honey coated his fingers where he skimmed
them over her labia. “Please make me come.”
    He could totally do that. He gave her nipple one sharp bite
that made her cry out and sat back. He had to watch this, watch her come apart.
And it was a sight well worth leaving her breasts for.
    Kitty’s face was slack with pleasure, her eyes heavy-lidded
as she stared back at him. She didn’t try to close her legs, or try to shy away
from him. No, she arched her back even more, her hands sliding up her torso to
play with her nipples as he fingered her slick sex. Monk glanced down to watch
his hand under the leg of her shorts, the way her thighs tensed