Her hand lifted, skimming along my abdominal muscles to my chest, her palm settling over my heart. Every touch she gave me felt like coming home.
“Landon?”
“Yeah?” I answered around the emotion in my throat.
“Do you want to make love?”
My bear became so excited at her question, fur sprouted on the back of my hands. I snapped them out of sight.
I cleared my throat again, adjusted my position beneath her, and said, “Um.”Play it cool. Play it cool. Don’t freak her out.“Do you?”
Instead of answering, she stroked my chest, down then up again, the silk of my shirt whispering beneath her palm. My cock stood up at attention. My bear growled with need. I bit my tongue to hold the sound inside.
Lower her hand traveled, this time pausing at the button of my trousers. When she started undoing it, I placed my hand on top of hers, relieved the fur had disappeared.
Tension stiffened her body, that scent of nerves returning.
“If we’re going to do this,” I said, and waited for her to look up at me. I took one of her curls and tried to tuck it behind her ear like she’d done. It bounced right back out. Giving up on that, I continued, “Then we’re going to do it right.”
Her brow crinkled in bemusement, her hand twitching on my fly. “What’s the right way to do it?”
A smile grew on my face. “Ladies first.”
Her eyes widened, and I took the opportunity to kiss her parted lips.Perfection.Every time I tasted her, it was like the very first time all over again. Her moan of pleasure spurred me on. Keeping my mouth against hers, I adjusted our positions until I cradled her bottom in my lap. My hand dove into her hair.
Her tongue stroked mine, as enthusiastic for this kiss as I. My bear wanted to consume her. I wanted to make sure she was screaming in pleasure.
I broke our kiss, leaning her back to access her throat. I inhaled gulps of her scent, tasting her skin on the way down. Her hands squeezed my shoulders, fingernails biting into skin. Shivers cascaded down my back and up my scalp. I loved that. She could scratch me as much as she liked. I almost told her to squeeze harder, but bit my tongue. This wasn’t about me, it was about her.
I looked up from the top button of her blouse. “I’ve always wanted to learn how far these freckles go.”
She licked her lips, the scent of her desire spiking, and gave me a little nod.
Bracing on my elbows, I undid the top button, then the next, and the next, until her blouse parted, revealing a black lace bra beneath. My bear bashed against my psyche, wanting to rip that bra open to reveal the treasures beneath. Ignoring him, I trailed my fingers from her throat, through the valley of her breasts, then along her stomach. Everywhere I touched were more freckles, right until they disappeared into the waist of her skirt.
“One of these days, I’m going to count them all,” I murmured.
Her face flushed red, her scent swirling around us. I altered our positions again, kneeling beside the sofa until I could glide her skirt down her hips and thighs. She lay there like an offering, a feast, in her black, skimpy underwear. It was all I could do to contain my bear.
I kissed her kneecaps, her inner thighs, and stroked the backs of her knees with my fingers. “You’re so damn sexy,” I said against the skin of her hip, enjoying her gasps of pleasure. I wanted to worship every part of her, show her how much I loved her with my touches.
I licked the inside of her elbow, her wrist, kissed the palms of her hands. She held my heart there.
Beneath a hooded gaze, she watched my movements. My lips grazed the freckles on her stomach, then traveled to her breasts. Cupping the globes, I left her bra where it was and nipped at the juicy flesh through the lace. I took my time, reveling in her responses, tweaking the hardened pebbles beneath.
One hand still toying with her nipple, my mouth searched down for another sensitive area. I wanted to pay homage to every inch of her.
“Stop.”
I paused at the desperation in her voice, ice blooming across my heart. My lips hovered over her wrist and I met her eyes.
She licked her lips and continued, “Stop being so gentle. I can’t take it anymore.”
My bear roared.Claim!
“You make me feel too much,” she whispered, and it sounded pained.
I leaned back to examine her face. Her scent had changed to something almost frantic. My bear liked it, took it as an invitation to show the aggression he held inside him. But I didn’t think the same. I didn’t want her desperate. I wanted her blazing with arousal.
