I nodded, exposing some skin to show what awaited him once he upheld his end of the bargain. I didn’t need to tell him twice.
“Wait.” I stopped him seconds after he began strumming the guitar. “Lose the shirt.”
He smiled, shaking his head as he laughed softly, and stopped his plucking for only the amount of time it took to strip the shirt from his body. Holy hell, his chest was a thing of wonder, and used as the backdrop for the guitar, I could barely keep from touching myself. “Is that all you want me to lose?”
I scanned my hungry eyes over him. “For now.”
Quinn resumed strumming the guitar, playing a tune I’d never heard before.
“Did you write that?”
“I did,” he said, looking up from the strings. “For you, actually.”
“For me? How do I know you don’t say that to all the girls?”
“Because I don’t say it to all the girls. I wrote this song for you, whether you believe it or not. Now, why don’t you come over here… and lose the shirt.”
I smiled, twirling a strand of hair, teasing. My feet moved forward, each step slow and deliberate. I stopped before we touched and lifted my shirt up and over my head, standing there before him in my lacey bra and panties.
Quinn set the guitar down as I took the final step. He placed his hand on my stomach, peering up at me. “I don’t even know where to start. You’re so beautiful.”
I tipped my head into his, my hair fanning out around us. His hand slid up my back, unhooking my bra and allowing my breasts to break free. His mouth circled one. Then the other. I reached around him, dragging my nails along his skin. Quinn tipped his head back and moaned.
“Everything,” he said. “I want to look at you.”
Hooking my fingers into the waistline of my panties, I eased them down past my hips until gravity took them the rest of the way. I was standing before him vulnerable and aroused. Quinn adjusted, his hardness straining. I throbbed, resisting the urge to touch him… to touch myself.
“God, Jess,” he whispered, gripping my wrist and running his thumb along the underside of the delicate skin. “Where have you been all these weeks when I needed you?”
His words, the need. Quinn’s lips skimmed my cheek, drawing a gasp as he placed tiny kisses along my skin until he arrived at my lips. He kissed me, his lips deliberate as they drew me in.
My tongue circled around his mouth as I sank into him. With my legs straddling his waist, his stiffness was perfectly angled onto my sensitive spot. Slowly, I rotated my hips, and Quinn bit down on his lips, forcing the groan to remain silent in his throat. He grabbed my ass, pressing me down. I ground into him.
He shifted, severing our connection as he picked me up and deposited us both onto the bed. Running his hands up my arms, Quinn gripped me tightly and pulled me under him. Propped up by his muscled arms, he hovered over me, the lust nearly dripping from his eyes.
I was no tamer, my predatory instincts taking over.
With little effort, Quinn was on top of me in an instant. My legs wrapped around him, aching for him to be inside. Neither one of us was in our right senses, nearly frantic with need. My fingers gripped his jeans, wishing I’d made the removal of them also a condition of his guitar playing. I dipped my fingers into his waistband and slid them down his slim waist. He’d come prepared for action, hard and wanting. Still hovering above me, he dipped his head, flicking his tongue over my lips.
Already wildly aroused, I circled my hand around his hardness, giving him a tug. The groan that set forth required muzzling. We stopped, waiting, listening for a tiny spy, but when no sound came from the other side of the locked door, I squeezed harder, forcing Quinn to arch his back and silently scream with pleasure.
“No,” he spoke in a ragged tone, pulling out of my grip. Heat radiated off him, quickening my own pulse. “First I want to see you squirm.”
Every nerve ending in me was on high alert as those fingers of his dipped into my wetness. Now it was my turn to be muzzled as I plunged my head into the hollows of his neck, moaning behind closed lips. The pressure increased, and I was thrashing about. Too much of everything.
“I can’t,” I squirmed, every nerve tingling; even my toes were curling. Panic. “Quinn. I can’t stay quiet.”
Challenge accepted. He licked his way down, between my breasts, over my stomach, and then he was there, twisting me in place. The only way to stop his tongue from sending me into a high-pitched crescendo was to offer him the place between my legs, the spot throbbing for his company. I spread wide, trembling with anticipation.
Quinn reached for the condom, his fingers replacing his tongue and never letting up until he was at my opening and forcing me open. Everything quaked. Anticipation. Longing. Pure animal attraction. His hands traced the curves of my hips as he slid into me, taking me slow and steady.
"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?" his voice dipped, his hands sliding to my breasts as he drew in then out.
“I want you to do everything,” I hummed, rocking my hips upward in time with his, meeting each thrust with my own. The sultry slickness of his skin under my hands kept me busy while I devoured the feel of his heaving back as he breathed harder and heavier.
I desperately tried to hold back the force brewing inside me, but his foreplay had deposited me right at the edge, and I wasn’t sure how much willpower I had left. Quinn drove deeper, the tempo of his thrusts growing faster and keeping in time with our breathing, until we both came in a shared climax, perfect in our harmony.
* * *
