The Consequence He Must Claim(53)

“The black pair that shows off your ass really well?”

“Cesar!”

“They do.” He shrugged. “On top?”

“The sheer green over the light green cami.”

“Nice. You never wore a bra with that.”

“Because the cami had one built in.”

“I could still see your nipples when they were hard. Did I tear it?”

“No!”

“Did I suck your nipples through it? I always wanted to.”

Wicked, sexy flutters contracted her abdomen.

“I did,” he said with a lusty narrowing of his gaze before he looked down at the lined bodice of her indigo dress. One strong arm went behind her back, arching her up as his head went down.

“Cesar!” She grappled for his shoulders, bottom firmly imprinted with the thickness of his prodding erection as he opened his mouth on her breast and bit lightly at her nipple through the fabric.

She writhed as he aroused her very deliberately, just aggressive enough to produce sharp sensations through the material.

“Did you do that then?” he asked, looking at where she rubbed her thighs together in restless friction, trying to ease the ache between.

She swallowed. “Maybe.”

“Did I open your zipper and help you find relief?”

She shook her head, wondering where she got the nerve to talk about this, but the weeks of lovemaking they’d already enjoyed had created this safe place between them, where they could be raw and brazen and intimate. She could see he was enjoying this in his own wicked, kinky way and she wanted him to. Being the only one with the memory of that day was hard for her, too.

So she ignored the shyness that accosted her and guided his hand to her mound over her skirt. “You rubbed me through my pants and...” Her voice broke as he settled his palm into place with comfortable ownership while memory of what had happened reduced her voice to a whisper. “We kept kissing and I kind of...” She bit her lip, blushing hard, but she knew he would like it. “I had been thinking about making love with you for a long time, too.”

“You came?”

She nodded.

His nostrils flared and his arms flexed, pressing her hard into his lap, as if he needed the pressure of her bottom against his straining flesh to keep from losing control just from hearing she’d lost hers.

“I was really embarrassed, but you said it was hot.” She searched his expression. His cheekbones were flushed and carved into sharp relief, like his scalp was tight.

“So hot,” he assured her, caressing her with purpose. “Can you do it again?”

“You get so mad at me for the things I say to you, but look what you do to me.” He must have felt her trembling. “I don’t want to play games, Cesar. I want you to make love to me.” She kissed his neck.

He bared his teeth. “I like your back talk as much as you like my teasing. When did I undress you? I must have been impatient. I am now.” He smoothed his hand down her leg, then back up her bare thigh under her skirt.

“We did this...” She touched her foot to the floor long enough to press herself onto the bed and bring him over her.

He rode her lightly through their clothes as she breathily confided, “You told me if I hadn’t reacted like that, you might have been able to stop at a kiss, but—” She kissed him. “We couldn’t seem to stop.”

“I don’t want to,” he growled, kissing her passionately, hand under her skirt again so he could caress her hip and the back of her thigh as she hooked her leg around him. Curling his fingers in her underwear, he said, “These must have come off. That’s all I can think about.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

He lifted to skim them away and glanced into her eyes. “Then?”

She hesitated too long, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to say.

A light of understanding dawned. He grinned wolfishly. “Isn’t that interesting? It’s exactly what I’m dying to do right now. Please don’t be modest, corazón. I want you to ask me for what you enjoy. Did you like it?” He was lifting her skirt to her waist, exposing her naked thighs to the cool air.

“Yes,” she admitted, mortified. “But I didn’t— I was self-conscious and you were really turned on so you stopped before I— Oh!” The first dab of his tongue stole her voice.

“I think we can do better this time,” he said, breath hot on her mound, and he did do better, making her gasp, then moan, then cry out his name.

She was sweaty and wrung out when he stood and threw off his clothes. He dragged at her dress and bra, and said, “You could help,” as he stripped her.