He moans even louder.
Okay, maybe he does feel things more than me.
When his head drops back down, lust engorges his pupils. His hands slip under my silk robe and over my shoulders. With an expert push, the robe falls to the floor, pooling around my feet.
He runs his palms down my arms, and I exhale a staggering breath. It’s so much…feeling. All my nerve endings are alive, screaming at me to do much more than simply touch his abs.
He watches me, smiling. He’s enjoying my agony.
Two can play this game.
I run my hands back up his chest. His stomach quivers, and his eyes widen with surprise. It’s my turn to smile in victory as I slip my hands under his robe and push it off.
But I’m not done. I run my hands down his biceps (hard) to his forearms (manly and muscled).
When I reach his hands, he grabs mine and threads our fingers together.
Electricity shoots through every limb, shattering me. Every time he touches me it feels like I’m being shredded before being pulled back together just as quickly.
We stare at each other for one beat, two.
And that’s when I can’t take it anymore.
My hands circle his neck as his mouth drops onto mine. His lips are hot and soft as his mouth opens and his tongue sweeps inside. He tastes like whiskey.
My hands are in his hair. It’s as silky as I knew it would be, even silkier as I twist the locks around my fingers—hard. He inhales with surprise, pulling back to watch me briefly before claiming my mouth again.
My tongue lunges deep, and he moans into me. I want more. I want all of him, and I want him now.
He wants me, too.
His hands tuck under my rear end and he lifts me, but this damn nightgown’s so long that it doesn’t have give, so I hike it up around my hips.
I don’t care that I might have my granny panties on. I don’t care if he sees them. All I want is Feylin. Right now he’s everything, and I can’t get enough.
He lifts me and I hook my legs around his waist. I’m pressed against his hard-on, and a pool of moisture soaks me between my legs.
He’s walking us somewhere. I don’t care where. My body’s on fire, and only he can make it stop. Objects clatter to the floor, and he settles me gently atop his desk—I think.
There’s no time to look.
His mouth leaves mine (no!) and grazes down my neck. “Addison.” My name sounds sacred as it drips from his lips. “You are driving me out of my mind.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
He chuckles low, hot. “I think we’re talking about two different things. I don’t mean right now.”
I close my eyes, savoring the feel of his mouth on my throat. “I don’t even like you,” I whisper.
“You get under my skin so much.”
“Like no one I know.”
“Plus, you puke a lot.”
I pull him back to me, kissing him deeply. His tongue probes hard, and I open myself for all of it. His hands slip up my waist, and his thumbs graze my nipples, making my spine spasm.
The fire that’s between us is an inferno. The only way to stop it is to quench it.
