His chin dipped in a slight nod of agreement. "Then that," he said, "is what you'll have."
He kissed his way down her body, pausing at her breasts for a few long, lingering kisses that made her mind melt. He kissed her ribs, her stomach, her belly button, and down to the drawstring on her shorts. His tongue ran along one hip bone, then over to the other before tugging the string on her shorts and releasing the bow. She'd been holding her breath for so long she started seeing spots in her vision.
"Still with me?" he asked when she sucked in a breath. He bunched the edges of her shorts in his fists.
She managed a short puff of air she hoped sounded like "uh huh."
He must have taken her response for an affirmative because next he yanked the shorts down. Past her thighs, past her knees. His fingers grazed her body, his tongue and mouth following their path. One kiss here, another there.
Soft, barely there kisses meant to cherish.
She stepped out of her discarded shorts, and he caught her foot in his palm and rested it on his leg. Knelt in front of her, he kissed the inside of her knee, drew his tongue along the back of it, and tracked kisses up her inner thigh. All she could do was brace herself against the door and endure the prickling, shivering sensations echoing through her body as he continued his torturous ascension. At the edge of her panties, he abandoned her right leg and switched to the left. And, wow, the man was thorough. By the time his mouth reached her opposite thigh, she was panting, her breaths short and tight.
"Landon." She hadn't meant to wail his name so desperately. But she was safe, she remembered. Safe to ask for what she wanted. "Please."
He smiled, his cheek pressing against her inner thigh, and plucked her cotton underwear with his teeth. He let them go, and a sharp snap of elastic stung her skin. "That's what I was waiting for," he commented, his breath hot on her flesh.
Before she'd registered his thumbs hooking into the fabric, her panties were gone, swept down her legs and sailing over his head in the lamp-lit room.
Oh God. The lamp.
The light switch was on her left. She reached for it in an effort to extinguish the bulbs highlighting her exposed body parts in their unflattering glory. Her not-so-flat stomach, thighs more shapely than toned, her fair but lightly freckled skin …
So many imperfections. And being viewed by a man who'd last dated a woman who was the epitome of perfection.
Landon, on his knees before her, clamped on to her legs firmly and kissed her belly button. "Leave it, Kimber." It was a warning. He darted his tongue over the skin low on her stomach. Reminding her how utterly bared to him she was.
"I can't," she pleaded. She stretched for the switch, almost touching it with the tip of her finger.
He abandoned her stomach, draped one of her legs over his shoulder, and licked her center. One long, slow, deliberate lick that made her quiver. "I said leave it," he mumbled against her swollen flesh.
She considered the challenge in his voice, the fire in his eyes, as he watched her. Testing him one last time, she reached for the switch again. He slicked his tongue along the most intimate part of her, a little longer, a little slower, but with increased pressure. A breathy moan escaped her throat.
He pulled his mouth away, his gaze as sharp and as authoritative as his voice. "Do it again and I'll stop." Lines bracketed his lips as they spread into a smile. "And trust me. You do not want me to stop."
She knew better than to challenge him again. Doing her best to forget the lights, she dropped her arm. He grasped her hand and put it on top of his head. As she ran her fingers through the silken strands of his short hair, he nestled between her legs. She surrendered to his ministrations, the feel of his sweet, sensual mouth against her. When the pressure mounted, she stood on her tiptoes, her entire body coiling. He kissed and suckled her, adjusting his pace to her whimpers of pleasure. At the pinnacle of her release, she writhed against the door, attempting to disentangle her legs from his solid arms. To get away, to push closer … she didn't even know anymore.
But he didn't let her.
She pushed gently against his head, her voice coming out strained and watery. "Landon, I can't." She was on the edge of either something miraculous, or something that might kill her. Intense, forceful feelings washed through her body, tightening her muscles, igniting her nerve endings. He ignored her verbal pleas for him to stop, listening instead to the ones from her body begging him to continue.
Finally, she surrendered, losing herself in the myriad of sensations accosting her, to the bursts of light popping like flashbulbs on the screens of her eyelids. He had tapped into some deep, undeniably sexual part of her she'd never fully experienced before. Not like this. It exhilarated her to be taken so thoroughly, so confidently, the only goal on her partner's mind her complete and utter release. He released her elevated foot to the floor. She lost the urge to stop him and spread her legs wider instead.
Not stopping his careful work, he pulled her hands from his head. When he tucked them between her bottom and the door, she pressed the cushiony flesh against her fingers, trapping herself there. Boldly, she met his eyes and felt her face heat along with every other part of her body, as if her blood had turned to lava. She twisted her fingers together behind her back, obeying his unspoken command to hold herself there, and watched him. He wanted her to watch, to stop trying to stop him. His movements slowed, his tongue slicking over her. He kept his gaze glued to hers. She was so, so close. Her body jerked. He repeated the motion, pressing the tip of his tongue against her solidly. She moaned her approval.
"Kimber." His voice rumbled against her. "Come for me." He closed his eyes and laved her … savored her like he was tasting a fine wine. One more stroke and she obeyed, spinning out of control, her release taking every dab of tension from her body. All the insecurity and stress and worry washed away in one shuddering, insatiable orgasm.
He held fast to her legs, taking on her dead weight as she slid helplessly down the door, her hands skimming the polished wood behind her. When she would have reached the floor, he caught her on his lap and palmed her back.
His next kiss landed on her neck, the one after that beneath her ear. "Delicious," he breathed, causing her to tremble. Or maybe she'd never stopped. "Every inch of you." He sampled her earlobe and she shivered again, bringing up her shoulder to keep him from tickling her to death.
"Stop." She chuckled, the sound no more than a wheeze. A pathetically puny wheeze.
"Not a chance," he said. "Can you make it to the bed? I have nine and a half more things to do to you."
She laughed again, a weak, dry sound. "That was only half of item number one?" she managed.
"Yes."
Half. Good Lord, she might die by the time they got to the second thing. Whatever that was.
Kimber opened her eyes lazily, legs shaking as he helped her stand. She followed his backward steps to the bed, the gold and green flowered comforter rumpled where she'd lain and waited for him minutes ago. Or hours ago? She had no idea. It was like she'd fallen into some sort of lusty black hole. When he got her to the bed, she fell gracelessly onto a pillow.
"Is this how you're going to react after every orgasm?" he teased. He crawled over top of her, his pants brushing against her legs.
Wait. Pants? She was stark naked and he was still wearing pants. No fair.
"Because we won't get very far if you require lengthy recovery after each one," he continued.
After each one. Normally, she considered herself lucky to get one orgasm. And that last one was about five times better than any she'd had in the past. The way he talked, he had several planned. The tantalizing promise of more returned the strength to her fingers.
She unbuttoned his pants. "Guess I'd better buck up, then."
He grinned and she eyed the dent in his chin. He was so gorgeous it hurt her heart a little. No hearts, she reminded herself sternly. No heartstrings. No fluffy, bouncy, rainbow poodles.
Right. Just sex. Well, obviously not just sex. More like delicious, amazing, consensual, walk-away-without-regrets sex. She could handle that. She could handle a whole lot of that.
She slid his pants past his hips, over a pair of black boxer briefs and the same jutting bulge she'd brushed her fingers over earlier. He sucked in a breath between his teeth when she grazed the back of her hand over his erection.
There wasn't anything more fun than watching his control ebb. His nostrils flared, teeth bared in an almost grimace as she slipped her hand past the last barrier of cotton.
"What's next on your list?" She massaged the length of his shaft. "Tell me," she demanded.