She couldn’t speak, only nodded, her body taut like a bowstring.
“I could make you come right here,” he murmured, circling that sensitive bud with maddening precision.“Right now.With nothing but my fingers.”
Her head thumped back against the mattress with a soft thud.“Nicholas…”
“That’s it,” he breathed, picking up the pace.“Let me hear it.Let go for me, darling.Let me ruin you.”
His free hand caught both of hers and pinned them above her head.Her body writhed against his, and he pressed closer, pinning her completely, his rough thigh between her smooth ones, his mouth at her jaw, her throat, her ear…everywhere.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.“Say it.”
“I want…” Her voice cracked.
He nipped her earlobe.“Say it.”
“I want you to make me feel like you did last night.”
“You want me to make youcome.”
“Yes, make me come,” she repeated breathlessly.
He groaned.“You do not know what those words do to me.”
He stroked faster, firmer, watching her face as he worked her toward the edge.Her brows knit.Her lips parted.She whimpered, then moaned, then bit his shoulder.
“Do you like that?”he rasped.“You want my mouth on you next?My tongue in place of my fingers?Like last night?You taste so good, my sweet Bea.”
She whimpered again.Her wrists strained against his hold.
“No,” he said.“I can’t let you touch me.If you touch me right now, I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do next.”
She frowned, but stopped trying to pull her wrists away.
“Good girl,” he growled, a feral grin spreading across his face.“You want it rough or gentle?Fast or slow?Shall I make you scream, or will you be quiet like a proper lady while I make you come again and again?”
She was shaking now, her entire body shivering with tension, her hips bucking against his hand.
“Look at you,” he said, utterly wrecked by the sight of her.“All undone.And I’ve barely begun.”
He leaned in close, teeth grazing her jaw.“After this, I’m going to spread you out and savor all of you.I’ll have your thighs over my shoulders, your hands in my hair, and my name on your lips until you forget your own.”
She let out a strangled cry, half shock, half desperate need.
“Oh, yes,” he growled.“I know.First, I’ll take you from the front.Smooth and easy and slow.And then I’ll take you from behind.Have you bent over the bed, over my desk—hell, over the pianoforte if you like.Anywhere.Every way.As many times as it takes until you forget every other man who’s ever looked at you.”
Her body tensed—tighter, tighter—and then shattered.She gasped, her mouth falling open, eyes squeezed shut, and Nicholas kept his fingers moving until she was wrung out, spent, panting.
He finally slowed, then withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips with a wicked glint in his eye.He sucked one clean, never breaking eye contact.
“You taste like sin,” he murmured.“And I am a man utterly devoted to damnation.”
Bea arched her back, dazed and flushed and trembling.
But he wasn’t done.
He was touching her so gently, but there was nothing gentle about the way he looked at her—as if he’d crossed a desert just to fall at her feet.His eyes were nearly black, ravenous.She’d never been looked at like that.As though he were starved for her.As though she were the only thing on earth that might satisfy the ache inside him.
He rose above her at last.Broad shoulders.Strong chest.Muscles roped and flexed with control—barely.Then lowered himself once more to cover her completely.Skin on skin.Heat on heat.His weight pinning her deliciously, his hand cupping her jaw as he stared down at her.
