An Heir to Bind Them(10)

He set her on the bed and straightened, not turning on the light. Only the faint glimmer from the pool deck through the windows penetrated.

She hugged her knees as she watched him slide his belt free and toss it away, toeing off his shoes at the same time.

“Are we taking turns? Because I’m dying to see you,” he said with enough ragged edge on his voice to make her shiver.

She looked down at her crumpled uniform, her shirt open, her bra still loose across her chest. Shyness was the only thing holding her back from undressing, she realized with a glistening lilt of joy. Not fear, just natural self-consciousness about undressing in front of a man.

As she hesitantly drew her shirt off her shoulders she confessed, “You’ve seen a lot of women. I don’t know how I’ll compare.”

Down to his briefs as he peeled away his socks, he said, “I’m not very sure of my ability to hang on until I’ve given you everything I want you to have. I do not want to be the selfish bastard you compare every future lover to.”

He wouldn’t be, not by a long shot. And even though a quick coupling was probably better for her, given her hang-ups, she doubted it was a good thing to say. Besides, he stole the shirt she was trying to fold and lifted her bra away, dropping both to the floor. The air-conditioned room made her curl her toes, incredibly self-conscious of her naked breasts and beaded nipples as she forced her hands to remain beside her hips.

Sitting there in the half-light, staring at his muscled frame, she was accosted by a pull in her abdomen, but it wasn’t fear or misgivings. It was longing. She wanted his hot, muscled body on hers. She wanted to feel those hard thighs between her own without cloth between them.

He started to remove her sandals and she kicked them off herself, letting him ease her onto her back in a sprawl under him as he loomed over her. The brush of his skin against hers was brand-hot, making her quiver with disconcertion. But the reassuring stroke of his hand up her waist to cup her breast calmed her nerves even as his expert touch sensitized her.

“Did I mention my addiction to cocoa?” he asked huskily. “I could sip these chocolate nipples of yours all night.”

He bent to enclose her in wet heat and the return of excitement was like a blow, bringing up one of her knees. Sweet delight flashed through her, rippling waves of pleasure that didn’t fade, only increased.

“I want to kiss you,” she admitted as he shifted to tease her other breast. A coiled knot of tension pulled in her abdomen. It made her bold, impatient for the build and release of orgasm.

As he lifted his head to look at her, he skimmed a hand down, silently asking her to lift her hips so he could push her skirt off. When had he lowered the zipper?

She complied and he reared up onto his knees, stealing the last of her clothes. Her thighs twitched, locking closed in nervous tension while she stared at the black briefs hugged tight to his hips and thighs. His erection was a thick, unapologetic ridge behind the stretchy fabric.

He sat back on his heels, knees splayed, hands in loose fists against his thighs. He let out a harsh breath, like he was under strain. “God, you’re pretty.”

He says it to all of them, she warned herself, but she couldn’t help smiling. The way he studied her with the intensity he usually reserved for spreadsheets, but had that light of excitement and wolfish half smile on his face, seemed like genuine admiration. It affected her, relaxing her and making her want to writhe invitingly—if only she knew how.

“Will you kiss me again? Please?” She lifted a hand and he let out a gruff laugh as he stretched out beside her, leaning over her.

“I’ll kiss every inch of you.” He gathered her up to his muscled body and she felt bruised by the hardness of him. He was so hot, so strong beneath his taut, satiny skin. She couldn’t resist stroking his back and shoulders as he kissed her. Their tongues flicked and delved and it felt totally natural. Better than natural. Necessary.

She did writhe then, moved by instinct, body involuntarily lifting into the stroke of his hands, arching to push her breast into his cupped palm, rolling her face into his caressing fingertips when he dragged his mouth to her neck. Then he was laving her nipple again, bringing the ferocious need into her loins. Mother Nature had a plan, quite obviously. She ached for attention between her thighs.

If only she knew how to make love as well as he did. He massaged her belly and grazed fingertips along the seam of her thighs, inciting her to relax them open. Then, finally, he was tracing into her wet heat, penetrating easily into the dampness that welcomed him. His caress was so stunningly good. As his thumb rolled over the taut peak of her clitoris, tiny sparks shimmered through her, gathering toward the implosion. She gasped, awed that she could feel this way again, from this deeply intimate touch.