The Millionaire Affair(25)

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.