I took another step back before letting the robe slide down my shoulders, stopping at my elbows. My entire body was exposed to him, but because I had asked him to stay, he stayed.
This wasn't about control. I couldn't control him. It was about his allowing this moment to move at my pace. I straightened my arms, the robe dropping to my feet as I stood completely naked in front of him.
His gaze carved paths across my body. Possessive. Hungry. But he remained still, every muscle locked in restraint.
I took a shaky step toward him, and then another until I was standing between his spread thighs. The outline of his hard cock tenting his pants. My hands shook at my sides, and I clenched them into tight fists, not letting the nerves show, not letting them win.
"Songbird?" he asked, and I shook my head.
Then, I reached out my hands, and this time they were steady. I touched him, starting at his shoulders then dragging my hands down his hard body, the rugged ridges of his abs warm under the silky shirt. I trailed my fingers down until I got to his waist.
Heat radiated through the expensive fabric. His abdomen contracted beneath my touch, muscles jumping.
With my teeth sinking into my bottom lip, I pulled his shirt from his pants and started undoing the buttons one by one. He allowed it to happen, allowed me to explore at my own pace, and I intended to take full advantage of it.
My knees weakened, but I ignored them. My heart raced, but I paid no attention to it.
Instead, I pushed his shirt off his shoulders and ran my hands over his warm, inked skin. I traced the distinct lines of his tattoo with my fingertips, his abs flexing under my touch. When I looked back up, the intensity in his eyes bore into mine.His own hands were fisted in the bedsheet next to his hips as he refused to move.
His breathing had gone rough, each exhale controlled. Measured.
He was letting me explore to my heart's content.
I leaned down and kissed him, a soft, sweet, almost tender connection. And when he opened his lips to me, I licked out and tasted him. The warm, spicy, masculine flavor that was all him. And I had to know if the rest of him tasted as damn good.
I kissed his jaw, then kissed a line down his neck to his collarbone. His skin was warm against my lips and surprisingly soft.
Salt and heat. My tongue traced the hollow of his throat, and his pulse hammered against my lips.
"Let me touch you," he rasped.
It wasn't a request.
CHAPTER 23
ANNA
With my lips pressed against his chest, I raised my eyes to his and nodded before moving down another inch.
His hands tangled in my hair, not pushing me, pulling me, or pressing me closer to him, but simply stroking my hair, petting me, creating a warm, soft sensation that started in my chest and spread through my body.
I kissed further down, licking the long, chiseled line of his abs, memorizing every inch of him with my mouth and my fingertips—every ridge of hard muscle, every scar.
When I got to the waistband of his pants, I dropped to my knees between his thighs. With my hands resting on his knees for balance, I shifted them over the top of his thighs. Muscles contracted beneath my palms, his expression intense and focused.
His cock twitched, and his eyelids grew heavy.
“Can I?” I asked with my hands on either side of his waistband.
“Please,” he said, and I had the strange feeling that was the first time he had ever uttered that word.
I ran my fingertips over his pants along the ridge of his cock while my other hand pulled his zipper down.
He lifted just enough for me to slide his pants and boxers off at the same time.
He kicked them out of the way and lay back on the bed, his almost completely bare body framed only by the shirt draped over his arms.
I still knelt on the floor between his legs, and my hands went back to his thighs, sliding up, careful not to touch his hard cock. I leaned forward tentatively and licked the base of his cock, just above his balls, then dragged my tongue all the way up to the head, where I wrapped my mouth around it.
