Breaking Him(22)

We ate in silence after that, and despite the conversation we’d had so far, it wasn’t uncomfortable. But I was restless—and achy, and going a little bit nuts having him this close and not touching me. The fact that he’d now finished eating and was watching me wasn’t helping one goddamn bit, either.

I finally finished, put down my knife and fork, and looked up at him. “Dessert?”

He shifted in his seat, then shook his head.

Was he going to go? I didn’t want him to go. I wanted more of what he gave me in the barn.

I didn’t mind the silences, but I hated that I didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. Was he as desperate for me as I was for him? I stood and collected our plates, then headed back to the table to grab his empty beer bottle and what was left of the bread. I leaned over the table…

His hand pressed against my lower back and I stilled. Just that, that simple touch—and I was an addict getting a much-needed hit of my favorite drug.

It slid up along my spine until his hand was between my shoulder blades, heat radiating through the fabric of my dress. He touched my hair gently, making my head tingle, then dragged his palm down again, until it rested just above my ass. Oh God.

His fingers flexed, dipping farther, and he stilled, making a throaty sound.

He’d discovered my lack of underwear. The heat of that wide, rough palm dropped lower, down to my butt cheek, and he lightly squeezed.

I moaned softly, holding my breath as slowly, ever so slowly, he slid the fabric higher. His breathing had grown choppy, choppier than my own. “You’re bare under this pretty dress?”

“Yes.” Cool air kissed my thighs, then higher.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said huskily.

I squirmed. He was still seated, right there. Could he see how slick my thighs were? How much I wanted him? Then his hand was on me again, this time with nothing between us.

“So pretty,” he murmured, then my dress was lifted higher, and the hot press of his lips grazed the base of my spine. Fire shot between my thighs, knees turning to jelly. And the whole time, his hand squeezed and massaged my ass. He continued with the soft kisses, grip firm, holding me where I was, bent over the table, where he wanted me.

I was already wet. Just sitting across the table from him had made me that way. But this…

I started to shake.

“Jesus Christ, Abigail.”

He jerked me away from the table suddenly and spun me around. My dress dropped back into place before his hands landed on my hips. He looked up at me as he spread his heavy thighs and drew me closer. Lowering his head, he pressed his face to my belly, then he hefted me higher, ass against the edge of the table, and dipped lower, nose sliding over the thin fabric covering my belly button. His massive arms slid around my waist, and the chair scraped against the floor as he shifted closer, so he could go lower still. The cotton of my dress cupped my mound, hiding nothing, and I whimpered when his nose bumped against it, grabbing for the table behind me so I didn’t collapse in a heap.

He ran his nose up and down my slit and drew in a deep breath. A heavy shudder moved through his powerful body, then his tongue darted out, pressing against the thin fabric, grazing my swollen clit through it.

My legs spread wider all on their own, silently asking for more. I was close to losing my mind, I wanted this man so much.

He looked up at me, and there was so much raw hunger there, I couldn’t think straight. “Love the way you smell,” he rasped. “I want to taste it, darlin’. Will you let me?”

I threaded my fingers through his dark hair, and he moaned, leaning into me like he had that first night in the barn. His fingers were restless against my hips, and there was a desperation in his eyes that, even though it should be impossible, sent my arousal higher. “Yes.”

I barely got the word out, and he lifted me higher until I was sitting on the table properly in front of him. The chair scraped again, and he came closer, my legs spreading wider to make room for his wide shoulders.

I was full-on panting when he began sliding my dress up. The slight tremble in his hands, the way he licked his lips, sent my anticipation through the ceiling. My thighs quivered as his roughened palms skated higher, spreading me wider. His eyes were locked on the spot between my thighs, and the dark excitement on his face, the way his nostrils flared when I was fully revealed to him, had me on the verge of coming before he’d even put his mouth on me.

Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to my upper thigh. The scruff covering his jaw lightly scraped my skin, and I was in sensation overload. He rested his cheek there, eyes on my swollen lips as he dragged his other hand higher, then without warning, pressed his thumb deep, sliding the pad over my opening.