He stayed above me for several seconds, eyes closed, drawing in big lungfuls of oxygen through his nose, trying to catch his breath.
When his eyes finally opened they were a little wild, unreadable, and butterflies started fluttering inside my belly. He lifted his hands from mine and pulled back, tilting his hips away. He eased off the couch, down to the floor beside me, so he was on his knees. I couldn’t read his expression, but as his gaze trailed over me, the almost fierce intensity there turned to something else, something that looked a lot like awe. My mouth went dry.
He lowered his hand to my ankle, starting a slow, torturous ascent, his touch featherlight, rasping against my skin. Despite my overheated condition, goose bumps prickled my flesh as he continued higher. Over my thigh, my hip, my stomach, then finally up between my breasts. He slid his hand from my chest to my neck, fingers lightly circling it. He held there for several seconds, thumb sliding across my chin, then down, back to my chest. He started rubbing his come over my breasts, down farther to my belly. He almost seemed in a trance, and for the longest time, I lay there while he ran his hands over my body, not moving, afraid if I did, I’d destroy whatever was happening.
His eyes lifted to mine and held. “Beautiful,” he rasped. “So small, delicate.”
My heart stuttered to a stop, then exploded into action, beating like crazy. I didn’t know what to say. I was the experienced one here, and I had nothing. Not. A. Thing. All I could do was watch him watch me, those powerful hands I’d admired for so long moving across my skin like they were worshipping me—taking ownership of me.
I liked the way it felt. Too much.
Then he leaned down and placed a soft, reverent kiss to my forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured.
When he lifted his head, my hands moved like they had a mind of their own, sliding along his whiskered jaw, and I pulled him down. He came, didn’t try to pull back, and I pressed my lips to his before I could question my actions. We’d never kissed; it seemed weird considering all we had done. The intimacy we’d shared. And I wanted to kiss him, badly.
But when our lips met, he froze, his massive body turning to stone. I softened mine more, brushing them over his, trying to coax a response from him. Reaching around, I threaded my fingers in the hair at his nape, my other hand sliding down over his shoulder, the now-trembling muscle of his monster biceps. My stomach sank. Oh God, he wasn’t responding. I was about to pull back, but before I did, I darted my tongue out, selfishly getting the taste of him I craved. That’s when he made a sound between a gasp and a groan and leaned in, pressing his mouth more firmly to mine, and finally returned my kiss.
His lips were cautious at first, testing, ghosting over mine. I felt the change in him when it happened. When he went from testing to exploring. The way he pushed back, the way his breathing quickened, huffing in and out of his nose.
Then his mouth opened over mine and his tongue made a tentative dip inside, and oh dear God, it was good. I clung to him tighter, and he growled into my mouth, lowering more of his weight on me, catching me up in his massive arms, and deepened the kiss. He kissed me until my head spun, tongue sliding against mine in a way that left me breathless, and I was hot for him all over again.
Finally, he lifted his head, and if someone had asked me how I was feeling at that moment, I would have struggled to find the words. It was bright and dark at the same time. Light and heavy all at once. And I wanted more of it, as much as he’d give me.
I forced an easy smile when he looked down at me, when that was far from what I was feeling. “You’re a good kisser, Eli Hays.” My voice shook. “Good” was an understatement. Especially since I was guessing that was his first real kiss. Something else I couldn’t get my head around.
His cheeks darkened again in that way I liked so much, but as usual he didn’t hide or show he was embarrassed by my words. He didn’t say anything, either, or move, he just watched me, weighing my expression like he always did.
Doubt unfurled in my belly. “You’re okay, with what…with what we did here?”
Something wicked flickered in his now-glittering eyes. It was sexy as hell. “Yes, ma’am.”
The air around us pulsed, shifted. With that one look, Eli had turned the tables on me, letting me know I hadn’t led him; he’d taken what he wanted. Like he could see right inside me, like he knew what I hid in the deepest recesses of my heart. I couldn’t hold his stare any longer. It was too intense. I looked away. “Are you hungry? I was going to make some dinner.”
He dipped his chin and stood. I missed his hands on me instantly. After tucking himself in his jeans, he strode to the bathroom. I was on my feet, pulling on my jeans, commando, since he’d torn my panties, when he walked back in. I could go and get underwear from my room, but I was kind of afraid he’d leave if I left him alone for even a minute. I didn’t want him to leave, not yet. He stopped in front of me, halting me when I bent to pick up my shirt. Then slowly, carefully, like I was made of the finest bone china, he dragged a warm, damp cloth over my throat, down over my breasts and belly, cleaning him off me.