“First,” I start, “you kissed me. Right by the sink.”
Ronan pulls me into his arms and leads me over to the sink. “How did I kiss you?”
The desire in his eyes makes my breath catch.
“Not gentle,” I tell him. “You kissed me like you…”
He bends his head towards mine. “Like I was what?”
“Like you were starving,” I blurt. “And I was the only thing that could satisfy you.”
“Ah.” His lips come within a whisper of mine. “I can understand the feeling.” Then his mouth descends on mine.
And it’s better than in my fantasy.
The desire surging through me isn’t just a fire, but an inferno.
Ronan makes love to my mouth.
His fingers tunnel through my hair as he tips my head back and kisses me harder.
He kisses me as if he’s ravenous. As if he’s desperate to get more of me.
“Then what?” he murmurs when he finally breaks the kiss. “What did I do next?”
“You brought me over to the island. And you set me on top of it.”
His gaze burns into mine. “Okay.” Holding me close, he backs me up to the island. Then he lifts me like I weigh nothing and sets me on top of it. “And then?”
My chest squeezes. “You spread my legs and moved between them. Then you laid me back?—”
I gasp as his hands come to my upper thighs. The heat of them sears through my jeans. My stomach quivers. Once he’s between my legs, he carefully pushes me back, in an almost perfect replica of my fantasy.
His hand rests low on my stomach as he looks down at me. From this angle, Ronan looks even taller than usual. Broader. More powerful. I feel tiny in comparison, and I like it. It makes me feel protected.
“Now what?” he asks.
“You put your hand here.” I place my hand between my breasts. “And then you moved it down…”
“Like this?” My heart almost leaps out of my chest when he touches it. My nipples are so hard they’re clearly visible through my shirt. My core is aching, convulsing around nothing. And he’s barely even touched me yet.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“And then…” He drags his hand down my torso until it reaches the apex of my thighs. “Did I do this?”
I nod. “Yes.”
A quick glance below his waist shows his erection straining at his jeans. “What did I do next?” he asks.
“I… don’t know. That’s when you said my name and asked if I was okay.”
“I see.” Ronan’s gaze rakes across my body. His eyes flare with appreciation. “You look so fucking gorgeous. Laid out like this—” He lifts the hem of my shirt enough to reveal a few inches of stomach. “Fuck. You’re so damn gorgeous.”
My stomach muscles quiver beneath his hand. “You look really handsome, too.”
He stares at me for a second. “Do you want to tell me what to do next? Or would you like me to choose?”
“You,” I say breathlessly. “I want to know what you want.”
