Read Online Shattered Perfection by Heather Guimond - Free Book Online Page B

of sense to me either, but I was still going for it.
    I launched myself across the space between us and he caught me with a look of surprise as I straddled his lap.  My lips crashed down on his as I wound my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers into his hair.  The texture was as thick and silky as I imagined, but his lips—oh his lips!—were softer than any man’s had a right to be.  I had this stray thought that he must go through Chapstick like a fiend, but the thought was chased away as I heard him moan softly.  His arms wrapped around my back, pressing me into him even as his mouth softened against mine, slowing down our kiss to something gentler, something we could savor.
    He took his time, only giving me the softest of kisses on my lips, my cheeks, and my chin.   He reached up and brushed my bangs from my forehead, before cupping my face in both hands and looking deep into my eyes.  He seemed to take in every detail before he moved in again, touching his mouth to mine, his tongue slipping out this time to swipe over my lower lip.  I gasped softly against his lips as he dipped in again for a long slow caress against my tongue, before exploring the recess of my mouth.  He was very languid in his discovery, as if he was totally unconcerned with anything but unlocking the secret to my passion.  His hands joined the gentle rhythm of his tongue, sliding over my back, tracing the curve of my spine and finally settling on the swell of my ass.  He softly squeezed the firm flesh, gripping it with his fingers just enough to inspire me to move against him.  My hips slid forward over his thighs as he pressed me against his body, my knees squeezing tight against his trim hips as our bodies connected in the space where our need was most evident.  His thick shaft strained against his zipper as it pressed against my soft core through my shorts, and the sensation only made me want more.  More of his mouth, more of his hands, more of him.  I slid my hands down his chest and began to undo the top button of his shirt, nuzzling and placing soft kisses along the length of his neck. 
    I traced my tongue along the curve of muscle the gap in the material exposed before he pulled my hands away.  I leaned back and look at him questioningly, unsure as to why he stopped me since I was rather certain we were both enjoying the moment.
    “As much as I like where you were headed, Mimi, we need to get cleaned up and ready for dinner,” he said.
    “You can actually think of something like dinner right now?  I must not be very good at this if you have anything on your mind besides—“
    “Trust me,” he cut in before I could say anything further, “it is taking a fantastic amount of self-control to not circumvent our plans for the evening.  However, from the little I know of Laurel so far, I do not expect that she would allow us to stand them up without harassing us endlessly.  This I can’t allow, because when I take you to bed, Mimi, I won’t let you out until the sun comes up—a day or two later—and I won’t tolerate any interruptions.”
    I think my insides actually liquefied at the heat in his gaze and in his words as he said the last part.  He was definitely right about one thing, if I hadn’t needed to after our drive here, I surely needed to clean up after that little interlude.  I leaned forward and gave him a lingering kiss, one full of promise and hope for the future.  We’d come to some important understandings in that last hour and shared some amazing moments of intimacy.  I realized there was so much more to look forward to and I was eager to experience it all with Vance. 
    Regretfully, I slid off his lap as he stood.  He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes promising me everything I never knew I was missing, but now desperately wanted.  I didn’t know how to move on from that moment.  It seemed wrong somehow, to just go about something as mundane as getting ready to go out