It’s the perfume he bought me for Christmas.
He steals all the air from my lungs as he breathes heavily against my skin and lowly moans my name. I bite my teeth into my bottom lip to stop a whimper escaping when his fingers explore my skin and expertly reach my pussy. He presses the tips of his fingers against my clit through my bikini bottoms.
“Good?” he asks in that rough, sexy voice of his.
“Yes.” I want to strip naked and give myself to him.
“Want more?”
“I want everything.” I rock my hips, trying to push my pussy into his fingertips.
I feel his lips curve into a giant smile against my neck. “Soon.” He licks, bites, then plants a contrasting soft kiss behind my ear again, and I could come from him just doing that alone. It’s so sensual and such a turn on. I’m wetter than the water I’m immersed in.
“Do you like your neck being kissed, Dr. Johansson?” He’s never called me that until today, and it’s kinda hot.
“I like the way you kiss me.” I still can’t believe I’m only the second person he’s kissed since he was drafted to the NHL.
He slept with so many girls, it’s just crazy.
“Are you wet for me?” he asks, keeping his voice low and steady. His confidence is something I’ve always loved, but this is the sexy side of him I’ve been desperate to uncover.
The pressure building in my core climbs even further when he rubs his fingers up and down, much harder this time, and I close my eyes, enjoying the intense pleasure I want to chase and capture.
God, this man.
He’s pushing me, testing me, teasing me through his touch alone.
“Erika.” The way he says my name in that low, wickedly sensual tone has me pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. They look worried, slightly apprehensive, but his pupils are dilated, telling me he’s as turned on as I am. Dipping my hips a little, his crotch brushes against me and confirms my suspicions. He’s hard. For me.
His hand, that’s between my legs, slowly drifts back toward my ass, which I hate because I wanted more. It would be wrong, even presumptuous, of me to ask if we can move this to the bedroom, especially when we agreed to take this slow.
I might combust if we don’t have sex soon.
“How slow is slow?” I ask, prompting him to let out a mighty laugh that echoes into the air.
Is this his idea of edging me? If so, it’s working. There is so much tension in my body, I’m coiled tighter than a viper waiting to strike.
I look down into the water between the small gap between us, and my cheeks heat when I stare for a minute too long at Leon’s erection.
He notices me gawking and smirks, humor shining in his eyes. “Whatever pace you choose, that’s your decision. But if you’d like to go faster, I would support that as well. It’s completely your choice, beautiful.” His firm tone boosts my confidence.
I wiggle in his arms, the deep ache in me now needier than ever. He worked me up in seconds, which usually takes me forever to feel anything, as if he already knows my body.
Running my hands down his back, I explore the bumps and ridges of his firm muscles beneath my shaky fingers as the persistent need between my legs throbs on.
His face turns serious; it’s intense. I know him so well that I can tell something is weighing heavily on his mind. I can almost hear the cogs turning, ticking like a clock inside that big, beautiful brain of his.
Leon walks us slowly toward the vast semi-circular steps of the pool and sits me down on the marble that feels warmer than expected against the skin of my ass.
When his brows dip, I know something is bothering him, then he finally says, “I need to get something off my chest.”
I nod, giving him the green light to share.
“In case you’re wondering, which I know you have been because I know you, Erika.” Kneeling between my legs on the step, he rests his hands on my thighs. “I haven’t seen, spoken or heard from Sage in over two years.”
I begin to understand his concern because he’s right, I’ve been desperate to ask him about Sage.
This morning, I went from feeling relaxed and calm, to on edge the instant I came face to face with her.
