Blush(51)

Without telegraphing what he was about to do, Cruz grabbed her by upper arms. He slammed her back against the wall, hard enough to knock her breath out of her as he grasped her by the wrists to hobble her hands over her head in the hard shackle of his fingers.

All lovely and sexy, but by his expression he was considering flipping her over the banister rather than kissing her. “Look, Cruz, I—”

With a small shake of his head, he swept a rough hand from her hips, to her waist, to her breast, sparking small flashes of burning need in their wake as he kicked her feet apart. Standing between her legs, he loomed over her, blocking the light, stealing all the oxygen in the room as he said dangerously, “Anyone ever tell you you talk too damn much, woman?”

Seeing his eyes change from disinterested to predatory slammed her heart against her ribs. “Not anyone who wanted to keep their job—” The pissy words dried up at the look of intent in his face.

Catching her face in one large hand, he crushed his mouth down on hers, forcing her lips apart. There was nothing gentle or seductive in his kiss.

Plowing rough fingers through the hair at her temple, it was as if he wanted to crush her skull. He fisted a hank to hold her head still so he could deepen the kiss.

Barely allowing her to drag in a sip of oxygen, he kissed her again and again. Deeper, harder, bringing her up on her tiptoes as he crushed her between his rock-hard chest and the wall.

Mia moaned, on fire as he pressed his thigh against the pulsing juncture of her thighs. The merciless press of his hard chest against her aching breasts, the heat and slip and slide of his tongue ravishing her mouth, giving no quarter. He was everything she wanted and needed. Her air. Her water. The solid ground beneath her feet.

Breathing was overrated. He took her mouth aggressively, the cavern of his mouth scalding hot, his tongue promising untold pleasures to come. A delicious and effective way to shut her up.

Mia sank into the kiss. He tasted so good. So familiar. So damn perfect. His skin burned hot against her naked, acutely sensitive breasts, and the hard jut of his penis from behind the prison of his jeans rocketed her lust from just I want to Give me. Now. She wanted him so badly, she could barely breathe. Her heartbeat thumped hard against her breastbone, then sent off tendrils of surging heat to every atom of her body like sharp electrical currents running along the pathways of her veins.

After playing the cool virgin all day—him, not her—his onslaught shot her sadly ignored libido from zero to a hundred in seconds. Mia wanted to climb his body as he murmured low, sexy words in her ear and nuzzled and licked his way around the shell of her ear.

She fought to free one hand from the shackle of his fingers, still anchoring her wrists high above her head. Liberated, she went exploring, fumbling blindly to forge a small space between them. Bracing herself with one leg wound around his, she managed to undo the top button of his jeans. Still kissing, she pulled down the zipper, the exercise made infinitely more difficult because he was pressed, penis to mound, against her, and she was so focused on his avid mouth, she kept forgetting what her hand was supposed to be doing.

“Upstairs,” she managed when they broke apart to drag in oxygen, their chests heaving as they gulped air.

“No time.” Large hands skimmed down her sides and slid the wet, stuck-to-her-skin nightie up over her sensitive breasts and then over her head. It hit the wood floor with a wet slap. Then his mouth was back.

Thank God. She’d rather kiss Cruz than breathe.

She vaguely remembered what her clumsy fingers were trying to do, and struggled to tug down the zipper. As he made love to her mouth, his teeth scoring her lower lip, his tongue dueling with hers, she inched that damned zipper down. His erection made the task that much more difficult, and that much more distracting.

She arched her back when his palm cupped her breast and he unerringly found her nipple, teasing it between his fingers to pain-pleasure until she whimpered with greed.

More. More. More.

She’d known how badly she wanted this, but Mia hadn’t realized the depth and scope of that need. It spread through her, a living, breathing emotional need that shocked her to the core as she rose on her toes to meet him.

With a hard thump of her heartbeat she realized that Cruz was the first lover she’d ever had who was equal to her in every way. It made their encounters even more intoxicating to know that he wouldn’t back off. Wouldn’t back down. That he’d give her everything she wanted, and knew the things even she didn’t know she needed.

It was incredibly strange to have that clarity of truth, considering she knew this man intimately on one level but not at all on another.