lingerie
trio, she felt like one of those Victoria's Secret angels ready to
strut the runway. She risked a glance in Dane's direction, where he
sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only a pair of emerald green
pajama bottoms. Her breath hitched. Judging by the adoring look on
his face, one would have thought she had just dropped from
heaven.
"Christ, you're beautiful." The
husky sound of arousal in his voice had her stomach flipping like a
schoolgirl. He stood and headed toward her, his gaze never wavering
from hers.
Breathe, Monica. Don't forget to
breathe.
They'd been together for a
total of four years, and she still considered Dane one of the most
handsome men she'd ever known—six foot two, olive skin, and a head
of dark hair he kept at a professional length, but not military
short. He left it long enough on top that some of his natural wave
remained, which she greatly appreciated. Dane stopped in front of
her, his chest mere inches from her breasts. Monica reached up and
threaded her fingers through the black-as-sin layers. Mmm— How she enjoyed
those soft curls. Thick lashes hooded hazel eyes that held the
power to make her quiver under their perusal.
Yes, this was a wonderful idea. All
the fire and passion she'd buried inside after he'd rejected her
fantasies had come roaring back to life.
"You like your present so far?" He
cupped her face and traced her lower lip with his thumb.
"It's perfect," she murmured right
before his lips claimed hers.
The weight of his passion and the
heat of his kiss had her knees buckling, and if it wasn't for
Dane's strength holding her in place, her rear would have hit the
floor. He broke away long enough to mumble a request that sounded
like "come with me." But he didn't need to ask—she would have
followed this surprising new Dane anywhere.
"On the bed," he commanded, backing
her up until her thighs bumped the mattress.
Monica lay back on the duvet and
shimmied to the center. The hunger in Dane's expression as he
watched her move tightened her nipples into sensitive nubs and made
her pussy ache for his touch. Then he was over her, kissing her
like she was his first taste of water after a brutal
thirst.
"Damn." He gasped. "I didn't think
this night would ever get here." The warmth of his lips followed
the curve of her neck. Monica lifted her chin and turned her head,
wanting more of his wonderful attention.
Dane grasped her arm, lifted it
over her head, and slipped her wrist into one of the cuffs. He
cinched the leather against her flesh and fastened it. Reflex had
her yanking against the restraint, testing its strength. It didn't
give. Monica swallowed, searching for moisture to coat her suddenly
dry throat, and closed her eyes. Her head spun under the barrage of
emotions—lust, excitement, apprehension. She didn't know what to
feel first.
"You okay?" The concern in his
voice jerked her gaze to his.
"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm
good."
A quirk of a smile curled one corner of his
mouth, then he repeated the process on her other wrist.
"How long—?" she managed to get
out. Her breathing had reduced pants. "How long have you been
planning this? I didn't think— This—"
"Four months." He lowered his body
over hers, pressing his hands into the mattress at either side of
her head.
Monica tugged at her restraints
once more, caught off guard at how long he'd been putting this in
motion. "Four months?"
"That's right," he whispered into
her ear, the effect lifting the hairs on her body. His bare chest
grazed the hardened peaks of her nipples through her bra's thin
material. She writhed under the sensation. Wanting more. "But I
have a confession to make."
She froze. "Confession?"
He faced her. "I'll admit when you
first revealed your fantasies to me, I was taken aback." Monica
flicked her gaze away. It was embarrassing even now remembering
that night. "It's okay." He placed a kiss to her temple. "Look at
me." Dane's weight shifted, and then he was lying next to her on
his side.
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