I inhaled sharply when he slanted his mouth over mine, slow and certain, like he knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t rushed or sloppy, and it made me wonder how much practice he’d had. And that bothered me, even though it shouldn’t.
My hands lifted instinctively, curling around his forearms. I didn’t want to rush this because when a man kissed you like you were his entire focus and his entire reason for living, you savored it.
Suddenly, I understood why women probably fell for him.
I did my best to take control of the kiss, but it was almost a battle of wills between us, with neither one of us wanting to surrender first. And honestly, I don’t think either one of us cared who won at this point.
His lips trailed a path down my throat, while my hands explored every curve and defined muscle on his chest.
“Not gonna lie, seeing you in my jersey is doing something to me.”
I stroked my nails down his stomach and back up. There was no rhyme or reason to my path. All I knew was that I wanted to touch every inch of him, so I allowed my hands to wander.
“I didn’t realize you were possessive over a piece of fabric.”
His hand slid from the back of my neck down to my arm. His blue eyes darkened. “I’m only possessive when it comes to you, apparently.”
I gasped when he picked me up and carried me over to the king-sized mattress, setting me down gently.
I leaned up on my elbows, watching him pull his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, revealing strong shoulders and a broad chest. He wasn’t bulky but looked exactly as you would expect from someone who spent most of their life training at the gym.
When he tugged at the waistband of his sweats and stepped out of them, all I could think was, oh, wow. Okay. This was really happening.
Nate bent down, planting one knee on the bed, and captured my mouth with his. My heart raced so fast, I was afraid it would burst from my ribs.
“Tell me again why we waited so long to do this?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, guiding him toward the mattress.
I arched into him while his hands found purchase in my hair. “Because we were trying to be responsible.”
“Well, that was stupid.”
He shook his head with a chuckle and reached inside his nightstand to grab a condom.
“There is nothing stupid about this,” he said, setting the foil wrapper down.
“What would you call it then?”
He swiped his tongue over his lips and smiled down at me. I loved being the reason for that smile. “I would call this about damn time.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” I moaned as he pressed kisses along my jaw and down my throat.
“Tell me you want this, and you won’t regret it.” He slid his hand under the jersey, cupping my breasts and bringing them together with his hands.
“Don’t make me beg.” I moaned while he played with my nipples.
His mouth curved into a slow smile, but there was nothing soft about it. “I would give up my entire fortune to hear you beg for me.”
He opened my legs, sliding his hands along my inner thighs.
Suddenly, I was aware of every breath. Every heartbeat. Every brush of his fingers.
He looked at me like I was something fragile and dangerous all at once, and it sent a wave of butterflies through my stomach.
“You are beautiful, Becca,” he said, pressing his lips to my neck with just enough pressure to drive me wild.
I dropped my head to the side, and my lids fluttered closed. I knew I should have said something back, but the heat radiating from his body was all I could focus on.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this vision of you in nothing but my jersey,” he said, winding his hands through my hair. “It makes me want to get used to seeing my name on your back.”
