She wanted this, she wanted him. She was tired of waiting, tired of not knowing. And she knew, whatever else he was, he was an accomplished lover. He’d already proved as much three months ago.
‘Give me your answer, Freya.’ The edgy tone, so deep, so husky, lacked his usual control. Her confidence soared. She lifted heavy arms and pressed trembling hands to his cheeks. The rough stubble abraded her palms.
His gaze met hers, the need making the turquoise glitter like diamonds.
‘Yes, kiss me. I want you to kiss me,’ she whispered. ‘I want you to make love to me…’ she added, excited more by the demand in her own voice.
This was her choice, and she was owning it.
The words had barely left her lips before his mouth covered hers. Their tongues tangled, and danced, in a battle of submission and domination as he took control of the kiss.
Her excitement rose as she draped her arms around his neck. One large palm found her bared breast beneath the T-shirt she’d donned before climbing into the bed.
His lips devoured hers as he circled her nipple. His need was as furious and frantic as her own, increasing the sense of rightness, of wildness.
When they broke apart, their ragged breathing sounded deafening in the cabin over the hum of aircraft noise.
He cradled her cheek. ‘Are you sure, Freya? Because once we start this, it would kill me to stop again.’
She nodded, despite the panicked question that leapt into her head unbidden.
Should I tell him he’s my first?
But as soon as the thought had occurred to her—that there might be an etiquette to such information—her desire-addled mind worked overtime to dismiss the urge to overshare her sexual history or, rather, her total lack of one.
She didn’t want him to stop. And he might if he discovered she had no clue what she was doing. And anyway, why was it even his business? He’d probably slept with virgins before, given his well-documented track record with women. No doubt he wouldn’t care. Perhaps he wouldn’t even know? It wasn’t as if he had radar down there.
He pressed his forehead to hers, his thumb playing lazily with her nipple, making sensation dart into her already swollen sex.
‘Thank God,’ he murmured. ‘Tell me,’ he added, ‘how you like to be touched.’
I don’t know…
The answer echoed in her head, but she bit into her tongue to stop herself from blurting it out.
She scraped her fingernails across his nape, enjoying his delicious shudder of response.
Then whispered against his lips. ‘Are you telling me you need instructions on how to seduce a woman, Theo?’ she countered, determined to sound sophisticated. Jaded even. And not clueless.
His dark brows lowered a fraction—and she congratulated herself on managing to surprise him. Again. But then a slow, sensual smile curved those beautiful lips into a devastatingly sexy grin.
‘That’s a challenge I can’t resist,’ he said, making her laugh. But then she gasped as he edged the oversized T-shirt down to capture her throbbing nipple between his lips.
She clasped his head, bowing back, desperate to get more of the delicious suction. The darts of sensation—from her breasts to her sex—became arrows, swift and strong and relentless. He suckled on one nipple then the other, drawing the aching tip to the roof of his mouth, then eased back to blow on the damp skin.
‘Please don’t stop,’ she begged.
His fierce gaze returned to her face. The amusement was gone, his eyes blazing with an intensity that only excited her more.
He lifted the T-shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but her panties.
‘Lie back,’ he demanded, his gaze roaming over her and making every pulse point pound in unison.
She did as he asked, unable to stop herself from clasping an arm over her aching breasts, already so tender from his attention.
He took her arm to lift it clear. ‘Don’t cover yourself, Freya. I want to look my fill.’
She should have been embarrassed. No man had ever seen her naked before, but somehow she found the courage to let him look, his gaze raising goosebumps on her oversensitive skin.
