“Second thoughts? That’s fine.” He might actually die if she changed her mind, though. He’d never felt horniness like this. So specific. So beastly. Like there was a creature inside him that would run her to ground if he had to, he needed her so badly.
“No, I want to.” Her cheeks stained that pretty shade of pink that stoked the fire in his gut. “It’s only that I felt swept away a few minutes ago. Now the mood is a little...” She wrinkled her nose. “Logistical. I’m being silly.”
The doors opened, and she stepped out, looking to him to show her the way.
Her befuddling honesty and that phrase always wondered how these things were handled made him realize she didn’t have the experience he did. It provoked a sort of endeared protectiveness in him. As he brought her to the door of his penthouse, he felt almost as though he was initiating a virgin. He wanted to take care with her and meet all her expectations. These sorts of interludes ought to be nothing but pleasure with no reason for regret. He wanted to give her that.
He wanted to give her the best sex she’d ever had so he would remain in her thoughts forever.
And where the hell had that come from?
“Do you want a drink?” He let her in and closed the door, sealing them into a lounge lit only by a table lamp. He threw off his jacket, trying to cool his blood. Patience.
“No, thanks.” She was clicking the clasp on her purse again.
“I don’t do this as often you might think, you know.” Not anymore at least. “It suits me to let people think I’m a slut, but I’m actually quite picky.”
“Which sounds a little like you’re trying to make me feel special. I’ll chose to believe you.” She set her handbag on a side table and wandered past the sofa to the glass doors that led onto the terrace. Outside, recessed lighting cast pools of gold from beneath the hedges that surrounded the patio table and chairs.
“You are special.” He came up behind her and trailed his fingertips down her bare arms, pleased when he heard her breath catch. He was growing addicted to this chemistry that simmered and fizzed between them. It stoked his own arousal, making him twitch and thicken behind his fly. “Do you always react like this?”
“Ha. No.” She hugged herself, rubbing the bumps that had risen on her arms. In the faint reflection on the glass, her gaze sought his. “Do you?” Her voice held challenge. Cynicism.
Her question plucked at one of the razor-thin piano wires he used to protect himself. He did not react like this to every woman he met, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
“If you want to talk because you’re nervous, that’s okay.” He trailed his fingers down her arms again, making her body twitch in a shudder of sensuality. “But I’d rather you let me sweep you away.”
“I am nervous,” she admitted breathlessly, voice thinning to a whisper. “But I do want that.” She started to turn into his arms.
He stopped her.
“Stay like this,” he persuaded, hearing his voice drop into his chest with anticipation.
He drew a line from one side of her neck to the other, scooping her hair onto the front of her shoulder, exposing the bow that secured the haltered front of her gown. He pressed a kiss to her nape.
Such a tiny thing, but it made her shoulders flex. This power he had over her would be heady if there wasn’t such an answering ring of need that crashed like a gong inside him. Sexual aggression had its place, but this wasn’t it. He kept a tight leash on his inner caveman and nuzzled into the fragrance of almonds and peaches that clung in her hair.
“Can I untie this?” he asked against the strings that dangled against the top of her spine.
“Yes.” The word was a rush of breath.
Slowly, slowly, he drew the tail free, watching her shoulder blades pull together as the loops released. He kissed her nape and the tip of her shoulder and scraped his teeth against the tendons at the base of her neck, then bent lower to suck the skin on the fleshy part of her upper arm.
A shiver and a helpless sound was his reward.
As the front of her gown fell forward, exposing her chest in a translucent reflection of pale gold and shadowed nipples, she brought her arms up to shield herself.
He slid his hands around to cup her breasts for her, very aware of the way she drew in a ragged breath at his possessive action. He involuntarily groaned with possessive pleasure as the weight of the warm swells filled his palms.
“Put your hands on the glass.” His voice was barely working, coming out graveled by the carnal hunger that was gathering inside him.
The position forced her to lean forward slightly, pushing her ass into his fly and settling her breasts more fully into his hands. He could feel her excitement in the way her breaths trembled, and knowing he was causing it sent electric signals of need straight into his groin.
He stepped even closer, covering her as he continued to kiss her nape and slowly massage the firm globes that filled his hands. He played with her nipples until they were so taut his mouth watered with longing to suck on them. Hard.
She made a noise that sounded like pain.
“Too rough?” He stilled his touch.
“No. It’s—I can’t...”
“It feels good?” He smiled against her hairline, blowing softly behind her ear as he returned to lightly pinching and toying with her nipples.
“Yes.” She hung her head as though tortured beyond her bearing. She shifted restlessly, arching her breasts into his hands while pressing her ass deeper into his crotch, rocking with invitation.
Exquisite.
“Are you feeling needy, angel? Do you want my hands under your skirt? Here?” He released one breast to slide his palm down her stomach, then pressed the fall of silk deep into the hot valley between her thighs. When he flexed his grip against her mound, the noise she made was incredibly erotic, making his skin feel too tight to contain him.
“I like my hand here, too,” he assured her in a graveled voice, squeezing in gentle but firm rhythm, enjoying the kinky sensation of trapping her in a vise of pleasure so she shook and wriggled for escape but had nowhere to go.
He nudged her feet open so he could step between them and pressed forward, giving her a firm seat for the grind of her ass against his aching erection while he tongued her earlobe. The sexy noises that emerged from her throat and the rock of her loins against his throbbing sex were an erotic purgatory he could have lived in forever.
“Harder,” she moaned, dropping her hand to cover his.
“Keep your hands on the glass, Fliss. Or I’ll stop.” That was a lie. There was no possible way he wanted to stop. He wanted to fondle her until she broke, but he needed to stay in control. If she started running things, this would be over in a short minute.
He nearly lost it anyway when she dutifully set her hand back on the glass and he glimpsed the way she bit her lips in contrition. Damn, he wanted to kiss that mouth of hers.
