She tipped her head back, allowing him to devour her with his mouth. His tongue traced the delicate line of her collarbone, making her shiver.
When he pulled back, his gaze dropped to her breasts rising and falling erratically with every shallow breath. He brushed his knuckles over one tight peak straining beneath the thin fabric then caught it between his thumb and forefinger.
Lily cried out, her whole body jolting at the sharp, electric pleasure. “Fuck,” he grunted, rolling her nipple harder. “These perfect tits, stuffed into that damn—” He glanced down at the clinging fabric. “What the fuck do you call this thing?”
Her laugh broke into a gasp. “It’s a leotard.”
“Leotard,” he gritted out, grinding her down on his cock as if punishing her for distracting him. “Drives me out of my goddamn mind.”
He pinched again, harder this time, making her whimper and jerk her hips against him at the shot of pain and pleasure. “No bra. Nothing between me and these perfect nipples but a scrap of fabric.” He groaned. “Jesus, do you know what that does to me?”
His mouth was hot and rough against hers before she could come up with an answer. One big hand pushed the shoulders of the leotard down both arms to her elbows, trapping her arms to her sides and her breasts thrust upward.
“There is,” she gasped, her hands tightening in his hair, but he wasn’t stopping. “It’s built in.”
His breath hissed through his teeth as he yanked the tight fabric lower, exposing more of her with every rough pull until the peaks he’d teased were bare and tight under his fingers.
“Up,” he ordered with the unmistakable sheriff’s authoritythat made her obey before her mind caught up, pushing her off his lap and onto unsteady legs in front of him.
A small part of her wanted to object, to test the power and strength he held so firmly in his hands, but another, more elemental part of her—the part she’d never admit to in the light of day—reveled in the knowledge of how he saw her. Not fragile. Not delicate. Strong enough to meet him where he was without flinching.
Rush hooked his fingers into the waistband of her tights, jerking the stretchy fabric down her thighs and off in one impatient tug. She shivered when the air hit her, her every nerve heightened, the rawness of it making her whimper.
He leaned back, his gaze sweeping her with an intensity that made her knees shake even as she saw herself through his eyes. Her body was a tool of her trade, lithe and strong from years at the barre, soft in places where his eyes lingered the longest. Her hair teased her back, tumbling around her flushed face, leaving her looking wanton. Undone.
She didn’t recognize herself, and yet she did. She felt the siren song of lust and desire coursing through her, leaving her face flushed and her body achy, trembling… and wet. So very wet.
“Perfect,” he murmured, pulling her closer to suck one rosy nipple in his mouth while the other hand pressed into her taut stomach. His fingers spread until his thumb rested at the top of the dark-red curls of her mound, a stark sight resting boldly on her most secret, sensitive place. He stroked her then, a light glide of his thumb into the slick folds, his fingers sliding easily into her heat.
She jolted, her head snapping back as a sob caught in her throat.
“So wet for me, angel,” he rasped, watching her hungrily. His mouth closed over her nipple, working her with a slow,merciless precision that pushed her higher, balancing her on the knife-edge of reason.
When his thumb slipped away and two long fingers pressed inside her, there was no hesitation and no resistance from her body. He grazed over a hot spot that made her come up on her toes.
He grinned around her breasts, dark satisfaction in his eyes. “Liked that, did you?”
She bent to kiss him, rubbing her tongue softly against his, tasting dark chocolate and even darker lust. The contrast was tantalizing.
Her thighs trembled, heat flooding her veins as she watched his hand move between them, so much darker against her pale skin. The scrape of his stubble against her breast, the blunt strength of his fingers working her—it was too much and not nearly enough. She clung to his shoulders, fighting the dizzy climb he was ruthlessly pushing her toward, knowing he was showing her exactly how much she could take.
“No.” The word tore out of her on a gasp, her body jerking back from his tempting hands.
Rush stilled instantly, sitting back with his chest heaving and his eyes gone storm dark. Wary. “No?”
She shook her head and forced herself to hold his gaze. “I want to feel you—” Her throat tightened, but she pushed the words out anyway. “I want to feel you inside me when I come.”
Rush’s eyes went even darker at her words. He seemed to see right through her before leaning back against the couch, his eyes watchful. “You want this?” He took her hand and pressed it tightly against his cock, straining against the zipper of his trousers. “Then take it.”
Heat licked down her spine, and she wondered why she hadn’t just let him take over. She would have come in another second, had been so close. But some part of her, a tiny pieceshe’d ignored for too long, had wanted to take control the way he did so easily.
And once again, she’d bitten off more than she could chew.
She concentrated on her breathing, thighs shaking as she bent her knees and settled astride him, snugging herself tight against the thick bulge straining the zipper of his trousers. He didn’t soothe or coax her; he stretched his arms along the back of the couch and gazed at her with heavy-lidded eyes as she considered him.
She rolled her hips slowly, dragging herself along his cock, and glanced at him to see his reaction. His nostrils flared, but he stayed still, only his eyes betraying his tension.
Good. She wanted him to feel it.
