Allison Reed, sex goddess. The thought brought a smile to her face. Here’s to hoping she could live up to her own expectations.
Because for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to hold anything back from the man in her arms.
Darian set her on the kitchen counter, pressing her bottom against the white granite.
The squishing feeling under her made her grin against his lips.
“I’m ninety percent sure you just ground salted pasta into my skirt,” she whispered.
“I swear to god I’ll never try to cook again.”
“Your future dinner guests thank you.”
“Tease.” He kissed her again, his hands sliding down her body.
Allison inhaled as his questing fingers dipping under her shirt. The skin to skin contact sent a thrill through her body, igniting the fires higher. It made her want to return the favor and rip the grey sweater from his body. Who needed a bed? At the moment, she was more than happy to make do with the cool tile floor.
“I need to see you,” he breathed.
“That’s not very specific,” she replied. “After all, I’m right here.”
“All right,” he said, stepping up to the challenge. “I want you naked, spread out under me. I want to see your head tossed back in pleasure as I sink into you. I want to hear you scream my name as I give you the most earth-shattering orgasm of your life.”
“Big words.”
His grin was utterly, decadently wicked. “Trust me, I’ll live up to them.”
She leaned back to examine him as he stood pressed tight between her thighs. “Do you have a bed in this mansion, Mr. King?”
Gripping her legs, he pulled her down from the counter. “If you can contain yourself until we get there.”
A slow smile curved her lips at the taunt before she gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one swift move. “I make no promises.”
His blue eyes turned nearly black with desire. An answering need coursed through her seeing him stare at her with such desperation. She’d never thought of herself as a particularly sexy woman, but right now, with him, her inner Siren came to life.
“This way?” she asked, walking backward toward one of the open doors.
Darian stalked after her, his eyes never leaving her body.
Darkness washed over her as she stepped into the hall, leaving the light of the kitchen behind.
He reached for her, and she went eagerly into his arms. The heat of his hands against her naked back fueled her craving. All she longed for was to feel his skin against hers. Gripping his sweater, she did her best to tug it over his head, only to lose her balance. Together they fell against the wall, groaning at the harsh contact. The pain barely registered as she won her battle with the sweater and tugged it free. Letting it drop to the floor, she twined her arms around his bare shoulders. Darian’s hands ran over her body and pinned her to the wall.
“I want you right here,” he whispered into her ear.
She gasped when he gripped her hips and pulled her roughly against his erection. “Have a thing for unconventional places, do you? No judgment.”
He groaned. “Fine,” he said, running his lips down her throat. “Get us to a bed. But I’m warning you, we might not make it.”
Laughing, she pushed away from the wall and ran toward the stairs, but then he caught her around the waist and twirled her back into his arms.
“Bed,” she gasped as he cupped her breasts.
“Floor,” he replied, his fingers flicking over the material of her bra to find her nipples.
She tried to pull him along with her as she staggered up the first few steps. She got to the middle of the stairs before his hand trailed down her legs, hiking up her skirt.
“Living dangerously,” she groaned, pressing herself back against the wall.
Darian merely laughed from his lower vantage point. “So pretty,” he murmured, trailing his fingertips up the inside of her thigh. His fingers hooked around her black panties and he tugged them down victoriously.
“Come on,” she said, staggering. “You know how many accidents happen on stairs?”
“Really?” he asked, his fingers inching toward the junction of her legs. “Better sit down then.” He touched her lightly, only enough to send sparks of pleasure through her body.
Allison’s knees gave out and she collapsed inelegantly on the steps. “This is not the— Oh!”
Darian had grabbed her legs and pulled them apart. Before she could continue her protests, he lowered his head between her thighs and traced her folds with his tongue.
“Darian,” she cried. Her fingers dove into his dark hair, but she couldn’t decide if she wanted to push him away or urge him on.