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The Millionaire Affair(24)

By:Jessica Lemmon


She was wrong a moment ago when she thought she hadn't been with a man  this confident in a long time. She'd never been with a man this  confident. Never had a man taken so much time to focus on her. Usually  sex was a frantic rush. A race to finish. But Landon had made it clear  he wasn't racing or rushing. His big hands circled her small breasts  again, making her feel so feminine it hurt.

She decided then she would give herself over to him and his "list," regardless of what was on it.

How unexpectedly …  thrilling.

His hands continued in an arc, but he didn't give in and touch her  nipples. They peaked painfully and she arched against the door,  straining toward him, begging with her body for his touch. His hands  warming her body, he kissed his way down her jaw, to her neck, even ran  his tongue between her breasts, but refused to touch the aching buds no  matter how much she silently insisted.

Raising to his full height, he leaned in, stopping shy of touching his  chest to hers. She closed her eyes and waited for the feel of his body  on hers, but it didn't come.

"Just ask," he whispered.

Her eyes flew open. She panted, swallowed, and recalibrated her scurrying brain.

A sly smile crossed his lips. "There's something you want. I can see  it." His breath feathered her ear when he spoke next. "I can feel it."

"Yes," she breathed. His body heat washed over her, causing her to shudder in anticipation.

He thumbed her lip and watched her, eyebrows raised, that sly-no, more  like cocky-smile resting on his face like it had a right to be there.  Only it did. Because his pattern of seduction was working on her. All  too well.

Okay. He wanted to hear her say what she wanted? She could do that. She  raised her chin and met his eyes. "I want you to touch me."

Without hesitating, he rubbed his chest against each of her aching  breasts. She let out a stuttering sigh. Against her ear, he whispered.  "You feel incredible."

Before she could reciprocate, or reset her addled brain, he lowered his  head and pulled a nipple onto his tongue, sucking her deep into his  mouth. A tight sound left her throat as she dropped her head against the  door with a soft thunk. His mouth felt so good tears pricked the  corners of her eyes. She squeezed them shut. He'd barely touched her and  she was coming undone, her bones rattling hard enough to unhinge from  her joints and collapse her to the floor.         

     



 

And they hadn't even started yet.

He pulled his tongue from her flesh, and she met his gaze-the hot look in his eyes. "You need this," he stated.

She did. She hadn't had a release worthy of mentioning in …  a while. "Am I that obvious?"

He thumbed a nipple and watched her expectantly. "Say it." A command.

Electric shocks radiated between her thighs. He thumbed her other nipple.

She squeezed her legs together and on a surrendering breath, said, "I need this."



Some part of Landon warned him to stop. Which was insane. He had Kimber  naked, pressed against a door, her pert breasts heaving, her lips damp,  her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Stopping now would be crazy.

But there was something in the way she'd said ‘I need this' that gave him pause. A sense of foreboding clouded over him.

Relax. She said she needs "this," not "you."

True. And isn't that what they'd discussed when they'd agreed to do the  list in the first place? To indulge, then walk away unscathed? He felt  the need to remind them both of that deal.

"Kimber."

She opened drowsy eyes and he moved his hands to neutral territory-her  arms-so he'd have her full attention. He wanted her alert. It wasn't  like she was the kind of girl who had lists and flings and short-term  sexual relationships.

Hell, he wasn't that kind of guy. But he also wasn't willing to climb  into the commitment boat again. Not after Lissa had thoroughly broken  their agreement. Not after he had to start over at age thirty-seven. If  he did make another arrangement with a woman, Kimber would not be on his  list of options. She was transparent, fragile. Honest and giving. He  didn't want giving. He needed a woman selfish enough to walk away if  things didn't work out. He needed a woman who could compartmentalize  their time in the bedroom and treat him like an acquaintance during the  daylight.

Kimber was none of those things, he thought with a frown. This is a mistake.

"Don't say it," she warned. Vulnerability reflected in her eyes, even as  she urged him on, palming the door and arching her back. He couldn't  keep from sending a lingering, heated gaze down her supple body. He grew  harder just seeing her there; offering herself up to him like some  virgin sacrifice. No. Not a virgin.

Thank Christ. He for sure couldn't go there.

"You read my mind now?" he asked.

"You're going to ask me if I'm sure I can do this. If I'm cut out for a fling. If I can keep my heart out of it."

Good guess. "Can you?"

She grabbed the waistband of his pants, sliding her fingers into his  boxer briefs and brushing the head of his penis. He let out a sharp, hot  breath and he squeezed her arms, wedging his teeth together. His member  throbbed. You're not the only one who wants closer to her, buddy.

But he had to clear this up, or he would refuse to go any further. Regardless of how badly he wanted her.

"I'll admit," she said, her voice holding a surety it hadn't possessed earlier, "this is not something I'm good at."

He had to disagree.

She frowned, then clarified, "I don't mean I'm not good at sex. I mean,  I'm not bragging that I'm good, but-" She cut herself off, shook her  head.

He couldn't help smiling. She was muddled and adorable and so damn  different from any woman he'd known. She was …  Don't think it. Kimber  couldn't be some precious, special thing. He could like her. He could  make love to her, but he wouldn't drag her into something long-term. She  wasn't cut out for it, not with a guy like him. No matter how sure she  claimed to be.

"I have trouble with the walking away part," she blurted.

He wanted her to take it back. She was so transparent. Too transparent.  Part of him didn't want to be trusted with any fragile piece of her.

"But I promise you this. I will walk away." The fierceness in her eyes  made him believe her. It also made him question why this woman, who had  so much love to give, who was irresistible and adorable, would settle  for a short-term, meaningless fling.

"Why are you doing this?" He shouldn't ask. It shouldn't matter. But it did.

"Simple. I've wanted to kiss you since I was sixteen. I want to kiss you  again. I don't want to stop kissing you until sunrise." Her hand slid  lower into his pants, gripping him and breaking the dam of lust now  flooding his body. "Why are you doing this?" she countered.

He blinked a few times, trying to pull enough words together to form a  coherent sentence. She removed her hand from his pants and rested it  against his chest and he regained his grasp of the English language.  He'd also regained enough sagacity to know better than to answer her  question.         

     



 

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "You keep your promise to walk away when we reach the end of this list … "

She nodded. Cautiously.

"And I promise you can say or do anything in our time together and I  won't take it the wrong way." He glided his hands down her arms, over  her stomach, and to the undersides of her breasts. Her eyes had  darkened. She was slipping into the hazy vicinity of lust. Just where he  wanted her. But not until they were clear. He moved his hands to her  back and pulled her against him, looking down into her depthless green  eyes. "I don't want you worrying over the right way to approach or talk  to me. I want you to react naturally." He leaned in and brushed her lips  with his. "I want you to ask for what you want. Command me if you have  to."

"A safe space," she concluded after he kissed her lightly.

"The safest. You are not in danger of hooking a husband, here." Landon  forced a smile. He had to make certain this was what she wanted. That  there was no doubt in her mind as to his intentions. There was no other  way to be sure other than just saying it. He returned his fingers to her  breasts. She closed her eyes. "You said you need this," he murmured,  kissing her again. "What, specifically, do you need from me, Kimber?"



There was no need to weigh her words now. No reason to worry. He'd  promised to take what she said at face value. He was a pragmatic  thinker. He was reasonable, a man who led with his brain and not his  heart. Completely capable of separating love from pleasure. Could she do  the same? Well. She was sure going to try.

"I need to be cherished." She met his gaze firmly. Despite his promise  that she could say anything she wanted, she expected him to recoil. He  didn't. Instead, a veil of valiance slid over his face. The kind of  determination worn by William Wallace before he charged into battle.