He studied her face. Her heart softened because it wasn’t lust in his eyes. This was something else. Something…more. Something else entirely. Something different…dangerous.
His mouth was against hers and his hands were urgently pulling the cloth from her chest, up and over her head, only breaking the seal of the kiss for the briefest of seconds.
He seemed to have sensed her hesitation and didn’t want it to fester. To go further. Which was good, because she’d never felt this urgency of desire laced with a helluva lot of craving.
“I’m going to take you to the sofa, now,” he said.
“Okay,” she muttered against his mouth.
He moved her to the sofa, stopping at the door to flip all the locks and even the chain thing.
She wasn’t sure where her clothes went along the way, but it didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of his tongue tracing lines along the line of her breasts. Mulling over the tip of her nipples and diving deep into the valley between her breasts before moving down to her belly button.
He stopped there, lavishing her with attention while one hand held her ass.
“One sec,” he said. “Protection.”
She nodded and he stood, jogged up the stairs, and left her naked on his sofa.
But he came right back with the condom in his hand. Aw, look at him so prepared!
And then his mouth was at her center, coming in from the side into a sensitive space she didn’t even know existed.
“Delicious, I told you,” he said.
This wasn’t a full-frontal attack—this was a sneak assault from the side that left her trembling and making sounds she was certain she’d never made before in her life.
A life lesson probably developed from Ethan’s brilliance at going down on her, but she wasn’t in the headspace to evaluate that just now.
But then his mouth disappeared from between her legs.
“Emmaline,” he said, his lips now against hers. Not kissing her, just talking. Talking like he hadn’t nearly brought her to the edge and dropped her there.
She cleared her throat at the earnest look in his gaze. “Uh-huh?”
“I’m going to get off here.” He pulled her closer, the evidence of his desire to, ahem, “get off” excessively clear between her thighs.
“Okay, good.” She wanted him to have that, too.
“You’re also going to get off here…again.” He pressed the long, hard length of him right at the apex of her thighs. “Be sure to give a yell about what you like. What works for you.” His mouth met hers then. “I’m a bloody good student, but you’ve got to tell me what you like. What you need. No holding your breath.”
Was she holding her breath?
Okay, yeah, she had totally been holding her breath.
He sat up on his knees, unclasping his pants and pulling them down.
Here’s the thing—she didn’t particularly find male anatomy below the belt supremely attractive. And yet…his was nice.
Honestly? Fine. She straight up gasped.
“I won’t hold my breath,” she heard herself say, even as her hand reached for his shaft, stroking up, up, up to the tip of all that was him.
Yep. She’d breathe just fine for an all-access pass tothis.
“Fuck me,” he said, as she moved her hand over the head of his manhood back down the shaft to the root.
She gave him two swift strokes before he took control once more.
