Page 307 of A Vicious Love

I kept my hand steady at her hip. “Talk to me.”

“I’m nervous.”

“I see that.”

“I want…” She swallowed and looked toward the ceiling as if it could help her confess. “I want you to. I’m just embarrassed.”

“That’s all right.”

“It is?”

“Yes, baby. Embarrassed and wanting is still wanting. I can work with that.”

A breathless laugh slipped out of her. “That sounds very professional.”

“I run clubs.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding giving me a clear answer.”

Her eyes came back to mine.

“Yes,” she whispered. “You can.”

Something much darker, pleased and possessive, held tightly under control because this was hers as much as mine.

I kissed the inside of her thigh.

I held her gaze as I kissed higher, giving her time to feel every inch of approach, every chance to change her mind. Her hand moved from the sheet to my hair, then loosened, unsure whether she was allowed to guide me.

“You can touch me,” I said.

Her fingers sank carefully into my hair.

My eyes closed from the feeling.

“That’s it,” I murmured. “Use your hands if you need to. Pull me closer, push me back, I’ll listen.”

She nodded.

I lowered my mouth.

The first taste of her hit me hard enough that my grip tightened around her hips.

Sienna gasped.

I went still immediately. “Too much?”

“No,” she rushed, then caught herself and breathed. “No. Please don’t stop.

I pressed one kiss against her. “Good girl.”

Then I licked her again.

Learning the difference between the sound she made when surprise caught her and the sound she made when pleasure slid through her body and stole every practiced piece of composure from her face. I watched everything.

The hunger in me sharpened, but it changed as it moved through her. Became focus. Devotion. A need to take her apart so gently she trusted every piece of the fall. She tasted sweet, and so fucking mine.