He wasalmostcaught off guard again. But he was prepared now, overcorrecting her maneuver and tossing her onto the table before she could stop him.
When she seemed about to protest, he drew his mouth over her breast, now at a better vantage to reach, and any argument she had died in a choked moan.
Though his mouth never stopped, his hands hesitated again. He set them on her knees, drawing slow circles on her skin. He wanted to tease and draw out the moment, but that is not what had him stalling.
He was nervous. Afraid that his control might snap to the sheerwantto have her. His control was precarious as it stood.
Swallowing down the hesitation, he let his hands move up her thigh. Her back stiffened, noting his intent, but she did not try to stop him. No, her hands were working his hair into a lather as she moved his head over her breasts, forcing his mouth exactly where she wanted it.
Driving him absolutely insane.
He did not want to plow into her with his fingers and scare her, not for her first time, but each clench of her nails in his scalp, each time she forced his head to the right or left, his need swelled all the harder and heachedto be inside her, even if he had to settle for his fingers at the moment.
His breathing grew stuttered, hands clenching and unclenching against her inner thigh. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up making her giggle rather than come.
Pull yourself together.
She’s just a woman. And you know what women like. Give it to her.
He drew his right hand down the heated, saturated center of her pleasure.
Oh shit.
Forced to remove his mouth from her breasts and break her hold so he could get some air, Devin undid the top laces of his pants and eased some of the pressure. If this continued, he’d finish well before they got started. But fuck, he had not expected how much the evidence of her want could unravel him, how just the lingering scent of her arousal on his fingers had him fighting to keep from touchinghimself.
“What? Did I do something wrong? Is…am I not—” He halted her words with a gesture of his raised hand—the one not occupied. Hardly tactful, but right then he was seconds from going feral.
“You are perfect,” he managed, though he had to breathe through the words, focused on quieting the voice urging him to push her down, let his pants fall, andtake.
His hands rested on her thighs, both to hold him upright and to assure her. Divine above, he’d never struggled so much with wanting someone. She was like a holy being designed for his distinct torment. He looked into her eyes, the green still darkened by lust, but also so earnest and enchanting. “It is agony to temper my desire for you,” he said, lifting a hand to run his knuckles along her jawline, “Divine torture.”
Before he could understand why, his pulse raced. Thoughts spiraled. His hands grasped at his hair, the ends so distressed by her vice grip that they stood on end. Shoulders moving with the weight of his breath. Practically frantic. Gaze shifting to stare into the darkness over her shoulder.
AndI have no fucking clue how I’m ever going to recover from you. If I can ever go back to before or if you have ruined me forever.
He felt her move, but did not look.
He dared not look at her, naked and wet forhim.
How was he supposed to perform when reality was nonsense? When Devin Drake was undone by green eyes and the mere suggestion of arousal?
She scooted forward, enough to lock her arms around his back. An embrace. A hug?
His breathing relaxed, but his pulse continued to race.
“So,” her voice came light as a feather, bright as a sun in the darkness, “You’re saying I’m pretty good at this?”
Devin looked into her eyes, aghast. Floored.
She was smiling. She was dazzling.
Gods above, was he swooning?
She reached up with her head to kiss him, gently. He leaned into her, tethered by the push and pull of her lips. Devin actively worked against sentiment in his pursuits. Resisted affection with every fiber of his being, yet now that it was being offered by Miranda he couldn’t muster a shred of resistance. There was no calculation in the kiss, no focus on her pleasure or his. He drew his fingers along her cheek, a kiss from the happily-ever-after in a fairy tale that exposed some new, raw piece of him buried so deep it might never have existed at all. Then her fingers teased at his waist, dipping suddenly so her capable fingers drew down the length of his cock.
Holy hell.
“Mira,” he started, but she grasped him through his pants and his every muscle tensed.
