him, to tease him, to make him horny as hell.
A growl rolled up from his throat. His hands found her waist. He backed her up into the table and opened his mouth fully over hers. He held her there, held her still, but she wouldn’t have it.
She wanted the movement, the motion. Her hands found their way beneath his suit coat to his chest, his ribs, around to his back. She massaged tiny circles between his shoulder blades, all the while kissing him, her tongue tangling with his.
Her response wasn’t about him. It wasn’t even about sex or attraction. It was about fear and panic, about worry and stress. About her brother’s life. About reaching the end of a search, about possibly reaching the end of her rope.
Knowing all of that didn’t mean he stopped her. He did the opposite, in fact. He gave her every bit of the movement and motion she was looking to find.
He planted his palm in the small of her back and pressed her into his body, grinding down with his mouth while she pushed against him with hers. He played with her tongue, with her lips. He caught her with his teeth just hard enough to cause her to growl and bite back, to gouge her short nails into the muscles on either side of his spine.
He laughed, and she swallowed the sound, snarling when he palmed the round of her ass and squeezed. He wanted to take her, to lift her up and drive his cock home, to spread open her pussy, to rub all her hot spots, to make her come.
It wasn’t going to happen. He knew that. But knowing it didn’t keep him from bunching the fabric of her dress in one hand until he found skin. A lot of skin. Her bottom was completely bare.
He stopped. She stopped, pulling back to look him in the eyes. As dark as it was, he couldn’t see much, but he definitely saw them glitter. “What? You thought I was wearing something under this dress, the way it fits? There’s only one sure way to avoid panty lines.”
“That so?” he asked, thinking how much he’d like to take her shopping again. Thinking how much he liked her bare backside. He slid his hand lower and palmed the swell of her cheek. “And here I was thinking you made it a habit to go commando.”
“Well, there is that,” she said, breathless, lifting her leg and hooking her knee around his thigh before she got back to killing him with her kiss.
Her nimble tongue mated with his, swirled through his mouth. He could hardly keep up because his attention had gone south the moment she’d raised her leg. She was wet and she was warm and she was naked and open.
All he had to do was slide his hand lower, his fingers deeper, to find the source of her heat. And so he did, slicking her moisture over her skin, teasing the downy lips protecting her slit until she whimpered.
“Please,” she murmured against him. “Please. I’m sorry. Please.”
He’d never had a woman beg him so sweetly, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she kept apologizing for. He’d figure it out later, if later he still cared. Right now, he had his hands full, and too much else on his mind.
He let her go, reached for the chair and pulled it from under the table. Slipping his hand beneath her knee, he moved her foot to the seat of the chair. The position left her vulnerable. His position kept her hidden.
He tickled the skin of her thigh until she shivered, then slid his hand higher. She pulled her mouth from his, buried her face between his lapels where she’d crushed them in her fists. The sounds she made were low and throaty vibrations, all about what she was feeling, none of it faked.
He stroked his way up her leg, breathing deeply of her scents, which were clean and sweet, earthy, like fields of flowers, like the sea. He found her center, brushed aside her soft thatch of hair, thumbed the hard knot of her clit.
She gasped, tensed, shuddered, pulled his jacket closed and tightened her grip. The intimate space grew smaller. He turned her, holding her weight as she leaned back. Her hip hit the wall for
A growl rolled up from his throat. His hands found her waist. He backed her up into the table and opened his mouth fully over hers. He held her there, held her still, but she wouldn’t have it.
She wanted the movement, the motion. Her hands found their way beneath his suit coat to his chest, his ribs, around to his back. She massaged tiny circles between his shoulder blades, all the while kissing him, her tongue tangling with his.
Her response wasn’t about him. It wasn’t even about sex or attraction. It was about fear and panic, about worry and stress. About her brother’s life. About reaching the end of a search, about possibly reaching the end of her rope.
Knowing all of that didn’t mean he stopped her. He did the opposite, in fact. He gave her every bit of the movement and motion she was looking to find.
He planted his palm in the small of her back and pressed her into his body, grinding down with his mouth while she pushed against him with hers. He played with her tongue, with her lips. He caught her with his teeth just hard enough to cause her to growl and bite back, to gouge her short nails into the muscles on either side of his spine.
He laughed, and she swallowed the sound, snarling when he palmed the round of her ass and squeezed. He wanted to take her, to lift her up and drive his cock home, to spread open her pussy, to rub all her hot spots, to make her come.
It wasn’t going to happen. He knew that. But knowing it didn’t keep him from bunching the fabric of her dress in one hand until he found skin. A lot of skin. Her bottom was completely bare.
He stopped. She stopped, pulling back to look him in the eyes. As dark as it was, he couldn’t see much, but he definitely saw them glitter. “What? You thought I was wearing something under this dress, the way it fits? There’s only one sure way to avoid panty lines.”
“That so?” he asked, thinking how much he’d like to take her shopping again. Thinking how much he liked her bare backside. He slid his hand lower and palmed the swell of her cheek. “And here I was thinking you made it a habit to go commando.”
“Well, there is that,” she said, breathless, lifting her leg and hooking her knee around his thigh before she got back to killing him with her kiss.
Her nimble tongue mated with his, swirled through his mouth. He could hardly keep up because his attention had gone south the moment she’d raised her leg. She was wet and she was warm and she was naked and open.
All he had to do was slide his hand lower, his fingers deeper, to find the source of her heat. And so he did, slicking her moisture over her skin, teasing the downy lips protecting her slit until she whimpered.
“Please,” she murmured against him. “Please. I’m sorry. Please.”
He’d never had a woman beg him so sweetly, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she kept apologizing for. He’d figure it out later, if later he still cared. Right now, he had his hands full, and too much else on his mind.
He let her go, reached for the chair and pulled it from under the table. Slipping his hand beneath her knee, he moved her foot to the seat of the chair. The position left her vulnerable. His position kept her hidden.
He tickled the skin of her thigh until she shivered, then slid his hand higher. She pulled her mouth from his, buried her face between his lapels where she’d crushed them in her fists. The sounds she made were low and throaty vibrations, all about what she was feeling, none of it faked.
He stroked his way up her leg, breathing deeply of her scents, which were clean and sweet, earthy, like fields of flowers, like the sea. He found her center, brushed aside her soft thatch of hair, thumbed the hard knot of her clit.
She gasped, tensed, shuddered, pulled his jacket closed and tightened her grip. The intimate space grew smaller. He turned her, holding her weight as she leaned back. Her hip hit the wall for
Similar Books
