Below the Line by Candice Owen

overwhelmingly attracted to. She wanted to ensure she could walk away in the morning without a second thought. This wouldn’t end that way.
     
    The way he held her to his body made her feel protected and cherished. It was tight but not painful. Tight enough that she could feel the way his heart raced and the sharp rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She realized her eyes were closed. She never closed her eyes.
     
    His lips were firm, nipping along her jawline and down the side of her neck. Each little press of his lips shook her to the core. Already gasping for air, she clawed at his shoulders trying to get even closer to him, practically climbing his body. It set him off-balance, and he took a stumbling step back, then he sat down into the chair behind him.
     
    The quick descent onto the chair broke his concentration for a moment and gave Marissa an opening. Hands on his chest, she pushed him back and slid fully onto his lap, wedging her knees against his thighs. She rocked her hips into his, rubbing the seam of her shorts against his zipper. His hands rushed to her hips and held her in place, pressing himself tightly to her core.
     
    Eyes finally open, Marissa looked down at his face—and was lost all over again. His face was the picture of sexual torture. Control— he was holding tightly to it, and she was going to take it from him. She planned on making him as crazed inside as she was feeling.
     
    It was too much. The feel of her, hot and thrusting against him, overwhelmed the part of him that warned to slow down. They would have to try going slow some other time.
     
    He pulled his shirt up and over his head, her hands on his chest before the garment hit the floor. Grabbing her wrists, he put her hands by her side and went to work on the buttons of her shirt. His hands shook so badly that the task seemed impossible. Frustrated, Nate grabbed the neckline and pulled down hard, popping the buttons and yanking it off her.
     
    There was a quick impression of heavy-bottomed, full breasts and dark, rosy-colored nipples before his brain shut down. Leaning her back over his arm, he nuzzled gently before sucking a hard tip into his mouth.
     
    Marissa felt her eyes closing again. It was such a foreign feeling for her, this utter weakness, this loss of sanity. Deep down, her entire soul cried out for more. More of him and more of that driving need that seemed to want to swallow her whole.
     
    It was her hands that finally seemed to find some kind of life. They buried in his hair, gripping the cool strands tightly and pulling hard until his mouth came back to hers.
     
    For Nate, it was the ultimate breaking point. He stood, switching her from his lap to the chair. With little finesse, he pulled her shorts off, surprised to find she was naked underneath. He left her at the edge of the seat and spread her legs wide, running the rough pads of his fingers up the inner softness of her thighs and letting his thumbs brush over the wetness at her core. Her hips bucked at the soft caress.
     
    She was more than ready for him, but he needed to taste her. He needed proof of her want on his lips, on his tongue, and coating his fingers. He needed to watch her come for him.
     
    It wasn’t the most graceful seduction, but Marissa was beyond minding. It was a real thrill to know he wanted her so bad that he was off his game. The tremble in his hand whenever he reached out to touch her had her stuttering out a rough moan. It was so unexpected to see such a rough-and-ready kind of man reduced to trembling by a woman’s body and touch. She could feel his breath on her outer lips and his eyes on her face. She looked down at him the moment he claimed her with his tongue.
     
    Most women didn’t watch, but Marissa’s eyes stayed focused on his face. Once her eyelids fluttered as a soft moan fled her throat, but she quickly snapped them wide again. They fluttered again when he slid one long finger inside her wet heat. She was tight,