From Enemies to Expecting(32)

“I’ve been wondering,” he murmured, “about what you have on under that dress.”

“I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to find out,” she shot back. Except the sassy note she’d tried to slip into her tone hadn’t come out like she’d wanted.

Instead, it had sounded wistful.

With a wicked smile that shouldn’t have tripped so many alarms in her head, he put his hands on her knees to situate her the way he seemed to want: shoes on the ground, bottom nearly to the edge of the bed, thighs open wide. He knelt between her legs and slid both palms along her skin, his rough hands thrilling her as he gathered the fabric in a slow reveal that hitched her lungs.

The ivy tattoo appeared. He settled his mouth on the first green leaf and dragged his tongue across it. Gasping, she bowed off the bed and levered herself up on her elbows, because she didn’t want to miss anything.

The sight of his beautiful mouth on her thigh did it for her like nothing else.

“More where that came from,” he murmured.

He licked her tattoo clear up to her panties, shoving back her dress and fingering the fabric of her white thong. “I’m going to take this off.”

“You don’t have to check in with me,” she informed him breathlessly. Now that he’d so thoroughly turned the tables, she couldn’t get air into her lungs. She ached for him to touch her intimately, and she wanted it now. “Really, I’m game for whatever you have in mind.”

He glanced up, his expression hooded and implacable. “It would be best if you’d clue in right up front that I do things my own way. Therefore, I will be telling you what I’m doing to you as I do it. For example, I’m about to put my tongue between your legs.”

The promise raked heat through her core. Logan McLaughlin had a dirty mouth, and she was a huge fan of it.

Hooking his fingers at the waistband of her thong, he slid it off and tossed it over his shoulder. His gaze went hot as he looked his fill at her uncovered sex. No one had ever done anything like that before. Sure, she’d had men go down on her, but usually in the dark, and most of the time it had a mechanical, scripted vibe as if there was some unwritten rule that she had to get off before her partner got his turn. In short, not very romantic.

This...was.

Logan had already eliminated his pleasure from this equation, and it was as unsettling as it was exciting. It was easy to take what she wanted from a man after he’d done the same to her, but she had no idea how to accept pleasure freely given.

“Trinity,” he murmured, and her name floated across her skin like a prayer. “You’re so gorgeously made. I want to taste all of you at once. I hardly know where to start.”

She fought the urge to say something outrageous, to deflect, to ease her discomfort. She didn’t know how to deal with a man who wasn’t letting her run the show. He took away her dilemma by easing his thumbs up her thighs until he hit her slick center, where he went on an exploring mission that instantly lit her up.

Eventually, he replaced his thumbs with his lips.

Her core flooded with heat, and she gasped as he draped one of her knees over his shoulder, moving closer to her, increasing the pressure, the hot, wet sensation that had her crying out as she soared toward the ceiling. His tongue—it felt like it was everywhere at once, thanks to the sheer power of suggestion.

His big, solid hands held her in place as her hips bucked against his mouth. He welcomed it, going deeper, harder, faster until her skin incinerated under his onslaught and she came with his name on her lips.

“Again,” he murmured, his lips grazing her core as he spoke. “Don’t hold back. I want to watch you.”

He fingered her pulsing channel, catching the faint echoes of her orgasm and whipping her into a frenzy instantly. Her back lifted from the bed as he shot sparks through her entire body, shoving her over the cliff a second time. She crashed into the release with something akin to shock, letting it play out in a way she never had before. In a way she’d never been able to before.

Bleary eyed, she stared up at him as he covered her, dipping his head to take her mouth, sharing the earthy taste of herself on his tongue. It was as arousing as it was intimate.

Good sex stems from intimacy. It wasn’t just a throwaway comment he’d made. The man meant what he said. Always. Instead of enticing the all-American boy to take a walk on the wild side, he’d yanked her firmly over to his side. But she had no time to reflect on the irony of that as he shifted her to her stomach so he could unzip her dress.

This time, he offered no explanation as he stripped her of her dress and bra. When she was naked, he laid her back on the pillow and picked up one foot. He took one look at the tangled mess of strings and grinned. Wickedly.