But apparently, Mason was the exception. Because his eyes roved over her from head to toe, taking pit stops in places that raised her blood. His tone was reverent when he lay down beside her. “You’re perfect. Such a delicate pink,” he murmured, watching her body’s response when he smoothed the callused pad of his thumb over her nipple. Then he hooked a hand behind her knee and bent her leg up and out. Exposing her. Opening her to the warm kiss of the sun.
He took a quick look at the hot, wet center of her. Before she could feel bashful about such blatant appraisal, his gaze turned predatory, and she felt herself growing hotter and wetter still.
“Your sweet pussy is just a shade darker.” His accent turned the last word intodahkah. “I think rose pink is my new favorite color.”Cahlah.
Before she could sputter a response, he reclaimed her lips in a kiss that had her forgetting how badly she wanted to touch him. Instead, she dug her nails into the hard, corded brawn of his shoulders and held on for dear life as his mouth consumed hers and his busy,busyhands brushed and teased and squeezed. He found curves and valleys she didn’t even know she possessed.
Just when she thought he’d touch her where she most wanted to be touched, where she mostneededto be touched, he stopped. She barely refrained from screaming in frustration.
Opening her eyes, she needed a while to focus. She was dazed and confused by the thrum of unrequited need. But when shewasable to focus, she found him watching her intently. “What curse?”
“Huh?” She blinked in confusion.
“You said your curse didn’t work. What curse?”
“I know I’m new at this, but is there usually this much talking?”
He hitched a shoulder. “We’re taking things slow, so I don’t see any harm in continuing our conversation. What curse?”
“The one I wished on your penis.” She ran one finger over his nipple, delighting when goose bumps broke out across his skin. “Well, it was more of a pox than a curse really.” She used the side of her thumbnail to press into the center of the flat, brown disk, and he hissed her name.
Lifting her head, she sucked his nipple into her mouth and he palmed the back of her head, holding her to him. Instinct had her reaching down to fist her hand around his unimaginable hardness. The instant she did, he groaned.
The sound was barbaric. Crude. And completely beautiful to her.
Unfortunately, all too soon, he gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away. At the same time, he forced her flat against the blanket.
Her mouth immediately missed the taste of him. Her fingers immediately missed the feel of him. All that soft, silky flesh encasing a thick rod of tempered steel.
“Ugh.” She pouted up at him. “More talking?”
“Why’d you put a pox on my penis?” There was something more than curiosity in his eyes. He looked very serious all of a sudden.
“Well…” She twisted her lips. “The first time was because you refused to use it on me. And the second time was because I found out you were using it on Donna.”
When she tried to wrench her wrist from his grasp, he tightened his grip. She blinked at him. “What now?”
“Sorry, Alex.” Regret shadowed his eyes. “Never meant to—”
Using her free hand, she shoved a finger over his lips. Those gorgeous lips that should be doing unspeakable things to her instead of, you know,speaking. “How about you make it up to me by getting this show on the road?”
Her words must’ve pleased him. Because a second later, he sucked her finger into his mouth and laved it with his tongue. Then, he claimed her lips and gently palmed her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers until she gasped with pleasure.
She tried to fist his turgid length again, and again he manacled her wrist to stop her. “Waist up, woman,” he grumbled against her mouth. “You got free range there but nowhere else.”
“Fine,” she muttered, “but please don’t think you’re restricted to the same area with me.”
His answer was a low growl and a return to what he’d been doing.
He used his lips and teeth and tongue and hands on every inch of her. Each part of her seemed to hold some sort of fascination for him, and he took his time exploring. Thoroughly. Very,verythoroughly until his warm, callused palm splayed over her lower belly.
If he didn’t ease her exquisite misery soon, she was going to do it herself. It was too much. She couldn’t take any more.
Just when she was about to reach down to touch herself, the wonderful, talented man placed the heel of his palm directly over the spot where she needed it most. Then he curled his fingers around her. “Fuck me, you’re wet. And your little clit is so swollen and hard.”
At that point, she could do little more than whimper. When he dragged his hand up and down in a dirty grind, she couldn’t even manage that. She was no longer a human woman. She was a wanton mass of flesh and blood and screaming nerve endings.
Shewasher clitoris. It was where she began and ended. And just when she thought it couldn’t get better, it did.
