had wanted more than bragging rights from sleeping with him? Eight years. A lifetime? So long he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be welcomed and nurtured and valued.
“Do I want to know what’s so important that you had to stop
and think about it now ?”
“I was wondering if there might be a hidden clause somewhere
that would make our engagement real and binding.”
“Good answer. But that’s enough talking. And looking.”
“What about touching? Are you going to ban that, too?”
A sweet smile curved her lips. “What would you be doing if
you weren’t talking or looking?”
She shook as he traced a meandering path up the inside of her
thighs. Finding her wet and ready, he nudged his knee against her moist heat. When she arched her back and rubbed against him, a powerful surge of clarity shot through him. It wasn’t enough for him to take pleasure. He wanted to give it, wanted this to be a place she could revisit in her mind when she needed a moment’s
respite.
He ripped the small foil packet open and sheathed himself,
one palm flattening over her stomach to hold her steady while
he probed gently and backed off. Soft green eyes held his gaze,
widening when he slipped up through her damp folds to tease
her clit with his hard length. Making her wait hadn’t been on his agenda, but he couldn’t resist. His lifestyle didn’t allow for lasting attachments. This opportunity to make sweet love with this woman who was now his fiancée, however tenuous and brief their
engagement was, might be a once-only deal. He wasn’t rushing it
for anyone.
“Jake, please.”
He circled his hand on her stomach, barely moving, his
outstretched fingers skimming over her curls. His control was
slipping, but it seemed important to voice the thought uppermost in his mind. “You’re my fiancée.”
Beth shook her head. “You’re mine.”
If only that were true. He slid into her in one long stroke, then flexed to let her know there wouldn’t be a moment’s respite.
Staying with her for more than a few days was out of the question, but he was here now. And there was nothing fake about this moment.
One of Beth’s hands had fisted in the rock-god hair that she
claimed not to like. That level of acceptance was what separated Beth from every other woman he knew. He trailed his lips up her neck to her ear. “You’re not mussing up my hair, are you?”
She mussed it on purpose. It made his day, but he feigned
retaliation. He slid his arm beneath one of her knees and gave a murmur of triumph when she breathed his name and locked her ankles together behind him. For the first time in his life he wanted to give a commentary, but he couldn’t find the words to describe how closely this resembled his idea of the perfect night in.
Despite his earlier resolve to push her straight over the
edge, he stilled, giving her a moment to catch her breath. But she wouldn’t allow it. She urged him on and he gladly surrendered his entire length to her again and again, giving her what she wanted, what she craved, what her body was telling him she needed. His tongue invaded her mouth, dominating her, thrusting arrogantly
because she was so soft and feminine. Her response was coy,
gentle, almost shy, yet he could tell she was biding her time until it suited her to respond in kind. When she changed tactics he almost lost his mind.
The battle for control was an odd one, because he yielded
to her as often as she did to him. He understood her edge of
desperation, knew why she wanted to climb right into his skin.
He wanted to keep her suspended there for as long as possible,
to delay the heartache that awaited her when coherent thought
returned.
She dragged her mouth away from his. “Jake? I want—”
“Ask nicely.”
Her head shook, her voice breathless as she replied. “Read
my hips.”
Her hips? The story they told was mesmerizing. His hips rocked in time with hers, and her short nails dug into his back
“Do I want to know what’s so important that you had to stop
and think about it now ?”
“I was wondering if there might be a hidden clause somewhere
that would make our engagement real and binding.”
“Good answer. But that’s enough talking. And looking.”
“What about touching? Are you going to ban that, too?”
A sweet smile curved her lips. “What would you be doing if
you weren’t talking or looking?”
She shook as he traced a meandering path up the inside of her
thighs. Finding her wet and ready, he nudged his knee against her moist heat. When she arched her back and rubbed against him, a powerful surge of clarity shot through him. It wasn’t enough for him to take pleasure. He wanted to give it, wanted this to be a place she could revisit in her mind when she needed a moment’s
respite.
He ripped the small foil packet open and sheathed himself,
one palm flattening over her stomach to hold her steady while
he probed gently and backed off. Soft green eyes held his gaze,
widening when he slipped up through her damp folds to tease
her clit with his hard length. Making her wait hadn’t been on his agenda, but he couldn’t resist. His lifestyle didn’t allow for lasting attachments. This opportunity to make sweet love with this woman who was now his fiancée, however tenuous and brief their
engagement was, might be a once-only deal. He wasn’t rushing it
for anyone.
“Jake, please.”
He circled his hand on her stomach, barely moving, his
outstretched fingers skimming over her curls. His control was
slipping, but it seemed important to voice the thought uppermost in his mind. “You’re my fiancée.”
Beth shook her head. “You’re mine.”
If only that were true. He slid into her in one long stroke, then flexed to let her know there wouldn’t be a moment’s respite.
Staying with her for more than a few days was out of the question, but he was here now. And there was nothing fake about this moment.
One of Beth’s hands had fisted in the rock-god hair that she
claimed not to like. That level of acceptance was what separated Beth from every other woman he knew. He trailed his lips up her neck to her ear. “You’re not mussing up my hair, are you?”
She mussed it on purpose. It made his day, but he feigned
retaliation. He slid his arm beneath one of her knees and gave a murmur of triumph when she breathed his name and locked her ankles together behind him. For the first time in his life he wanted to give a commentary, but he couldn’t find the words to describe how closely this resembled his idea of the perfect night in.
Despite his earlier resolve to push her straight over the
edge, he stilled, giving her a moment to catch her breath. But she wouldn’t allow it. She urged him on and he gladly surrendered his entire length to her again and again, giving her what she wanted, what she craved, what her body was telling him she needed. His tongue invaded her mouth, dominating her, thrusting arrogantly
because she was so soft and feminine. Her response was coy,
gentle, almost shy, yet he could tell she was biding her time until it suited her to respond in kind. When she changed tactics he almost lost his mind.
The battle for control was an odd one, because he yielded
to her as often as she did to him. He understood her edge of
desperation, knew why she wanted to climb right into his skin.
He wanted to keep her suspended there for as long as possible,
to delay the heartache that awaited her when coherent thought
returned.
She dragged her mouth away from his. “Jake? I want—”
“Ask nicely.”
Her head shook, her voice breathless as she replied. “Read
my hips.”
Her hips? The story they told was mesmerizing. His hips rocked in time with hers, and her short nails dug into his back
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