The One Who Got Away by Jo Leigh Page A

barely lingering on her breasts. He undid her top button then pushed the material to the sides, baring a small patch of décolletage. Leaning forward, he kissed the newly bared skin, then licked her as if she’d been covered in honey. It wasn’t that far from the truth. She tasted sweet and smelled like summer.
    She reached up to his shirt, but he shook his head. “Not yet.”
    Her hands dropped obediently to her sides.
    He moved down to the next button, and as he’d done with the first, he spread the material of her blouse. This time he was rewarded with a view of her delicate pink lace bra, molding her breasts into perfect soft mounds. He could just make out the slight darkness of her nipples. Part of him wanted to rip the damn thing off her, but he held back, enjoying the slow torment. He bent forward and kissed the top of her right breast, then licked his way across to the top of her left.
    Her skin changed halfway there, breaking out into a field of gooseflesh. Beneath his tongue, he felt her tremble. He’d been hard since she’d touched him with her toes, but now he felt as if he would burst out of his jeans.
    Still, he didn’t rush. He unbuttoned her farther,flared her blouse, exposing the fullness of her chest. He knelt a bit and kissed her underneath her bra, but that was a tease. Rising just enough, he put his mouth fully over her right nipple, hidden behind the lace. It wasn’t so concealed that he couldn’t feel the hardness there. He ran his tongue over the nub, slowly at first and then faster; a little demonstration of what she could expect later and not just on her breasts.
    He felt her hands on his shoulder, and for a moment he thought she wanted him to stop, but when he did, she tugged him right back into place. She was simply steadying herself. Good, because he planned on being there awhile.
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    T AYLOR HAD DIED and gone to heaven. At the very least she was at the gate. Ben swirled his tongue around her left nipple, the lace making the sensation sort of dappled, if that were possible. She didn’t care what it was called as long as he didn’t stop doing it. His methodology was something he’d clearly learned over the years, because he’d been anything but patient that weekend. This was good. Very, very good. Her head lolled back as she drowned in the ocean of pleasure. It was wickedly hard not to touch him, to stand not so idly by and let him do all the work. But that was just manners talking, and this had nothing to do with etiquette.
    No mercy. No rules.
    It was everything she’d hoped for and a side of fries. “Oh, God.”
    His chuckle was more a sensation of lips on flesh than a sound, and she wanted to make him do it again.Wait, no… His teeth captured the tip of her nipple and pulled ever so slightly. Her gasp came from somewhere outside her body, but that was the only thing she wasn’t present for. God, his hands were on her bare waist, tickling fingers setting her quiver factor on high.
    The tickling stopped so his fingers could work on her button. Since her blouse was open, he undid her culottes. He knelt before her, found the zipper pull with his teeth and slowly pulled it down. She was grateful for the dresser, because without it she would have melted right down to the floor.
    He let go of the zipper and spread the opening of her pants. It was unbelievably erotic to have him on the floor in front of her, knowing he could touch her anywhere, do anything. He kissed her, right below her belly button. Her head went back, her eyes fluttered closed and she whimpered in pure surrender. She wanted him to hurry, to rip off the rest of her clothes and throw her on the bed. She wanted him to go slower, to make every sensation last a lifetime.
    Just the fact that she let him do this, let him take her wherever he wanted to go, astonished her almost as much as the feelings of need inside her. She never did this, didn’t like it