traveled to parts below and I wanted everything. With him.
His tongue nudged my lips. I tentatively parted them and that was all the encouragement he needed. His hand cupped my jaw, held it firmly while he took possession of my mouth with gentle suction and long, lush licks and an erotic skill I had never experienced. His male scent and the warmth of his body engulfed me. My nipples hardened. A contraction squeezed deep in my sex. An unfamiliar world of wanting and needing spun around me and I was lost.
Instinctively, my arm slid around his thick shoulder and I kissed him back like for like.
I felt rather than heard a low groan rumble up from deep in his throat. The keys I held slipped from my hand and hit the floor and I combed my freed fingers into the back of his silky hair as we continued to ravage each other’s mouths.
His hands traveled down and clutched my bottom, pressed my pelvis fully against an erection that felt like a steel bar. The visual I’d had of him in the elevator—his penis naked, hard and huge—took over my mind and a tingle so sweet and sharp it was almost more than I could bear darted to the core of my sex. No kiss had ever seduced me so completely.
His hand left my bottom and his fingers moved up, pulled my blouse tail free of my skirt’s waistband. He drew back, his breathing shuddery as the two of us watched himself expertly unhook my blouse buttons and brush the panels of silk fabric aside. My own breath was coming in quick pants I tried not to show.
He smoothed his hand over my braless breasts that were flattened by the tight Spandex lace of my cami. When he couldn’t take one in hand, he looked down at my torso. “Jesus, what is this thing?”
I fought an urge to grab the cami’s hem, yank the shielding garment over my head and bare my chest.
He gave up on the camisole and circled my firm nipple with his palm, ducked his head and moved his mouth down, radiating damp warmth around my nipple through the tight fabric and somehow he succeeded in tonguing it and sucking. My sex answered with deep contractions and my body instinctively arched to the pleasure. I couldn’t hold back a great sigh.
His mouth dragged away from my breast and trailed upward again to the bare skin above the camisole’s lace edge, over the slopes of my breasts and on up, all the way to the hollow of my throat, his tongue tasting the elevated pulse point. He moved on over to where my neck joined my shoulder. He licked, then sucked, then soothed with another lick. I tilted my head, savoring his warm mouth on my throat and neck. He nuzzled below my ear, gently closed his teeth on my earlobe and tugged.
“I want to fuck you, Miranda,” he said softly.
Omigod! A new shot of adrenaline rocketed through my body. I should have been insulted by such a crude declaration coming from a total stranger, but for a reason I couldn’t explain even to myself, I wasn’t. Instead, I was dangerously close to thinking he had presented a great idea.
Though no man had ever talked dirty to me, something my hairdresser, Ashley Harrison, said to me once barged into my mind: Honey, there ain’t no bigger turn-on than when some guy just flat out tells you he wants to fuck you.
Oh. My. God . She was so right.
And to prove it, my better judgment was going under for the third time in a dark pool of desire. My knees were quaking, my sex was tingling and it felt so good I didn’t want to stop it.
But I had to.
My survival instinct buoyed me back to the surface. I pushed against his chest, leaned back against his arm and stared into black eyes that gave away nothing. “You’re taking a lot for granted,” I said, my words coming out choppy. “I don’t know what Drake has told you or what you’re reading into—”
Instantly, he released me, stepped back and away from me, his breathing harsh. “Stop right there.”
Bereft, I stared at him.
Jamming his fists against his hips, he glared back at me. “You don’t strike me as
His tongue nudged my lips. I tentatively parted them and that was all the encouragement he needed. His hand cupped my jaw, held it firmly while he took possession of my mouth with gentle suction and long, lush licks and an erotic skill I had never experienced. His male scent and the warmth of his body engulfed me. My nipples hardened. A contraction squeezed deep in my sex. An unfamiliar world of wanting and needing spun around me and I was lost.
Instinctively, my arm slid around his thick shoulder and I kissed him back like for like.
I felt rather than heard a low groan rumble up from deep in his throat. The keys I held slipped from my hand and hit the floor and I combed my freed fingers into the back of his silky hair as we continued to ravage each other’s mouths.
His hands traveled down and clutched my bottom, pressed my pelvis fully against an erection that felt like a steel bar. The visual I’d had of him in the elevator—his penis naked, hard and huge—took over my mind and a tingle so sweet and sharp it was almost more than I could bear darted to the core of my sex. No kiss had ever seduced me so completely.
His hand left my bottom and his fingers moved up, pulled my blouse tail free of my skirt’s waistband. He drew back, his breathing shuddery as the two of us watched himself expertly unhook my blouse buttons and brush the panels of silk fabric aside. My own breath was coming in quick pants I tried not to show.
He smoothed his hand over my braless breasts that were flattened by the tight Spandex lace of my cami. When he couldn’t take one in hand, he looked down at my torso. “Jesus, what is this thing?”
I fought an urge to grab the cami’s hem, yank the shielding garment over my head and bare my chest.
He gave up on the camisole and circled my firm nipple with his palm, ducked his head and moved his mouth down, radiating damp warmth around my nipple through the tight fabric and somehow he succeeded in tonguing it and sucking. My sex answered with deep contractions and my body instinctively arched to the pleasure. I couldn’t hold back a great sigh.
His mouth dragged away from my breast and trailed upward again to the bare skin above the camisole’s lace edge, over the slopes of my breasts and on up, all the way to the hollow of my throat, his tongue tasting the elevated pulse point. He moved on over to where my neck joined my shoulder. He licked, then sucked, then soothed with another lick. I tilted my head, savoring his warm mouth on my throat and neck. He nuzzled below my ear, gently closed his teeth on my earlobe and tugged.
“I want to fuck you, Miranda,” he said softly.
Omigod! A new shot of adrenaline rocketed through my body. I should have been insulted by such a crude declaration coming from a total stranger, but for a reason I couldn’t explain even to myself, I wasn’t. Instead, I was dangerously close to thinking he had presented a great idea.
Though no man had ever talked dirty to me, something my hairdresser, Ashley Harrison, said to me once barged into my mind: Honey, there ain’t no bigger turn-on than when some guy just flat out tells you he wants to fuck you.
Oh. My. God . She was so right.
And to prove it, my better judgment was going under for the third time in a dark pool of desire. My knees were quaking, my sex was tingling and it felt so good I didn’t want to stop it.
But I had to.
My survival instinct buoyed me back to the surface. I pushed against his chest, leaned back against his arm and stared into black eyes that gave away nothing. “You’re taking a lot for granted,” I said, my words coming out choppy. “I don’t know what Drake has told you or what you’re reading into—”
Instantly, he released me, stepped back and away from me, his breathing harsh. “Stop right there.”
Bereft, I stared at him.
Jamming his fists against his hips, he glared back at me. “You don’t strike me as
Similar Books
