She gave an eager nod. He groaned again and claimed her mouth, his tongue slipping along hers, slow and sensual. His hands cupped her bottom again and he rose from the couch. Lifting her like she weighed nothing, he walked them down the hallway, and into his room.
There he laid her on the bed. She opened her eyes, watching the inferno blaze in his. Her heart skipped when he settled his weight over her. It was an exquisite sensation, the heaviness of his body pressing her into the mattress. She slid her hands around his ribcage, wanting to be closer, to feel every part of him.
He paused and simply stared down at her. She had the same superb sense she had on the phone with him all those nights. A sense of closeness, of intimacy. It flowed between them, soft yet intense. Time could have stopped for all she cared. He kissed her again, his mouth moving and skimming across her jaw and down her throat. He left a trail of fire across her skin, his touch slow and lazy. He moved down her body, seemingly caught between removing the clothing that was in his way and exploring each piece of her that was revealed.
He left her trembling with need, with an exhilarating sense of freedom. She was free from the fears that had haunted her forever, free to indulge in her body’s desires. Here, with him, she was safe, and the sensation only reinforced the rightness of the moment.
When the clasp between her breasts popped free, Dillon pushed the material aside. She shrugged out of her shirt and bra, tossing them to the floor. She settled back on the bed again. His palms slid around the outside edge of her breasts, warm and soft, and he dragged his thumbs across her aching nipples. She gasped, arched her back, offered herself to him, and he obliged. He bathed first one taut peak then the other, until she gasped with pleasure, before moving, kissing his way down her stomach.
His hands gripped the waistband of her pants and tugged them down her hips. She tensed, an image flashing in her mind. Something he must have caught, for he paused and lifted his head. One look at the tender concern in his eyes and the fear flitted away.
“I’m okay.” She slid a hand into his hair.
He gave her a gentle smile. “Anytime you want to stop, just say the word.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Good.” He bent his head and flicked his tongue over her quivering belly, just above where she ached to feel his touch. She whimpered, arching toward him. He slipped her pants and underwear down and off.
The soft shush of fabric drifted to her when the rest of her clothing joined the pile on the floor. He moved over her, his warmth and solidness settling against her side and brushed a tender, lingering kiss across her mouth. His hands skimmed down her stomach, her thighs. She whimpered, breathless, and wriggled against him, desperate to feel his hands on her, to feel him touch her where she ached the most.
When his fingers finally slipped between her silky folds, she cried out, her hips coming off the bed when a wave of pleasure washed through her. God she didn’t know it could be like that, to feel a man’s touch, so exquisite, so much pleasure she wanted to burst with it.
“Easy, sweetheart.” His mouth nuzzled her sensitive earlobe, her shoulders, licking and suckling her flesh. His fingers continued their dizzying assault. She clutched at the quilt beneath her and matched the slow, torturous rhythm of his hand. The sweet tension gathered and tightened. When he raked his teeth over her nipple, then drew the peak into his mouth and sucked hard, she was lost. White-hot pleasure ripped through her, the tension tightening and releasing at the same time in a series of bursts. She gasped, turned her head, and buried her face in his chest, riding the delicious waves.
Dillon continued to caress her until the quaking that wracked her body dwindled to tiny tremors, until the haze began to fade from her mind.
“Don’t move.” His fingers slipped from her, his breath hot and ragged, his voice gravelly with need.
When his warmth left her side, she pried her heavy eyelids open in time to see him rise to his feet. Standing beside the bed, he towered over her, heat blazing in his heavy-lidded eyes. He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small silver packet.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he peeled off his jeans and underwear. Once naked, he stood over her for a moment, letting her look. Her stomach did a giddy little flip-flop, her eyes roaming, soaking in the sight of him. Wide shoulders and a broad chest tapered to a well-defined abdomen. Lean hips and powerful thighs, sculpted muscles that rippled with each tiny movement. He was beautiful, and she loved looking at him.
He sheathed himself then returned to her, an inferno blazed in his eyes when he crawled up the bed toward her. Doubt pounded through her, fear prickling at the back of her mind. Was she really ready to do this? Ready for how this would change their relationship? For how it would change her?