His focus shifted to her lips. She could almost feel the warmth emanating from him as he gazed at her. And she willed him to do what she was certain he was thinking about.
His lashes lifted and he looked directly into her eyes. Time hung suspended in the scented, steamed room. ‘You’re too much temptation.’
Before she could reply he brushed her lips with his. Too gently. Too briefly.
She drew in a small gasp of pleasure. Of disappointment.
But then he was back. She moaned as he claimed her mouth properly. He growled in recognition of her desire. He leaned her back, overpowering her completely until she caught his shoulders and all but collapsed against him.
Yes. This. Contact.
This was what she wanted. Him wanting her. Touching her. Making her feel vibrantly alive. And in that instant she’d give
him anything, as long as he kept touching her like this. He had one arm tight around her waist to support her, one hand holding her face to his. And his kiss? Pure passion.
He devoured her, there was no other word for it. And she was equally frantic—desperately meeting him slide for slide, lick for lick.
‘You smell delicious,’ he finally breathed as he broke from her lips to kiss across her jaw.
‘It’s the vanilla and sugar...’
‘Not entirely.’
She smiled. ‘You don’t like sweet.’
‘I was wrong about that,’ he muttered, then returning to kiss her full on the lips again even as he straightened her so she could stand.
She whimpered as she felt him pulling back. She didn’t think she could ever get enough of his kisses. But he smiled at her and grasped the hem of her top.
She froze but she didn’t try to stop him when he tugged her T-shirt up and then over her head. In fact she helped, getting her arms free of the shirt. But she lowered her face, feeling the burn in her cheeks as he stood suddenly still and silent as he stared at her bare breasts.
Self-conscious, she glanced down. Her nipples were tight and tilting up towards him, inviting his touch. His tongue.
She shivered.
Her thoughts were so shameless they shocked her. But before she could turn to hide he grasped her waist with both hands.
‘Zara...’ He swept his hands up to cup her breasts. ‘You’re beautiful.’
She masked her inward grimace. She wasn’t anything special but it was nice of him to say it.
‘You are,’ he insisted, gently swiping his thumbs across those taut nipples, making her quiver. ‘I’ll make you believe it.’
But he didn’t kiss her again. Instead he stepped back and quickly yanked off his own shirt. She looked at him, her self-conscious awkwardness obliterated by sensory overload. Desire pulsed heat between her legs.
Now here was beautiful.
‘Your muscles.’ She gaped. They were so defined. So tight. She reached out without thinking, to trace another scar she’d not seen from the distance of her bedroom window when he was outside. His skin was warm and she stepped closer so she could feel more, pressing her palm flat against him. She wanted to feel all of him.
He clasped her close and kissed her again. Electrifying sensations ran untrammelled through her as his bare torso slammed against hers. She heard him mutter something but she clutched him that bit tighter because she didn’t want him to pull away again.
He didn’t. Instead he kissed her again but at the same time pushed her, backing her until her thighs hit the large kitchen table, and then he lifted her to sit on it. The pressure he applied wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. Without breaking the kiss, he had her on her back and was leaning over her, his leg between hers—right where that ache was, where she needed him to press. She moaned as she felt his weight on her for the first time and she couldn’t hold back from arching to grind herself closer against him.
A deep unbearable yearning opened within her. Instinctively she wanted more than all his weight; she wanted him to pin her. To hold her there, safe—yet so exposed—in his embrace. Everything was contrary. She wanted the same but more, slow but fast. She moaned, unable to voice her needs, and his mouth returned to hers. His tongue delved, filling one of the voids within her. She reached around him to run the tips of her fingers across his broad, strong back. He was so hot, his muscle so solid, she just craved more.
Her eyes drifted shut and she felt each of his touches more acutely. He threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her face to his, while with his other hand he caressed her breasts, shaping them, teasing them. Making her feel admired, treasured. Beautiful. He traced his fingertips, his palm over her body and all the while he didn’t stop kissing her mouth as if it were all he’d ever wanted to do in life. Every moment of kissing sent her further along a path from which she wanted no return. She wanted to go further, never to stop.
His hand was now firmly down the front of her jeans, curving deep into her most intimate area at the apex of her thighs. Her eyes flashed open and she clamped her legs tightly together—half wanting to trap him, half wanting to stop him. She’d never been as intimate with a man before and she was suddenly embarrassed.
He lifted his head and met her tormented gaze. He didn’t say anything. He just smiled with pure sensual intent. It was her complete undoing.
This was what she wanted. Him, warm and close and touching her and loving it. That need so deep within her spiked. His hand moved ever so slightly as he felt her heated reaction. His fingers stoked.
Her mouth parted but she couldn’t form a coherent thought let alone actual words. His fingers stroked that bit faster.
He kissed her again. She had no resistance to his kiss. All she wanted was more.
Her embarrassment faded with every tiny, deliberate touch. All she wanted was to race along this path that seemed so imperative now. Urgency drove her own caresses. Tracing his broad shoulders and feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath his hot skin, she arched for more, rocking her hips against his clever, clever fingers that were still rubbing in that fantastic way. Tension built within her as he kissed her towards oblivion.
‘Come for me,’ he growled. ‘I want to feel you.’
She writhed, embarrassment long forgotten in the heat of the passion he stirred within her.
‘Tomas,’ she begged, suddenly realising it was right upon her. ‘Oh, no.’
She’d wanted to please him too—but it was too late.
‘Oh, yes,’ he muttered, lifting his head to watch her as he flicked his fingers relentlessly.
She ground hard against his tormenting touch, unable to control the writhing of her body, the shaking of her muscles, the moans tearing from her throat.
‘Enjoy it.’
She shivered, instinctively twisting with unbearable delight. She screamed as pleasure pulsed, drowning her in tumbling, powerful waves. It was too intense. Too much. She shuddered, clutching at his shoulder to keep him close, to anchor her.
‘Like that. Yes.’ He kept her close, his satisfaction at her reaction evident.
Breathing hard, she gazed into his eyes for an age—he was so close, but still so unfathomable. She licked her lips, finally drawing an easier breath only to realise she was still hot. Still hungry.
That was when he kissed her anew.
She relished the invasion of his tongue. Desire flowed—renewed, strengthened. She curled her tongue around his, and then pushed past so she could explore his mouth. She wanted to give him what he’d given her. She wanted to see his satisfaction.
He let her play for a moment before asserting his dominance again, deepening his possession of her. He pressed harder against her as she lay spread before him. She couldn’t help rocking against him as orgasmic aftershocks rippled through her.
‘You want more,’ he said bluntly.
Without bothering to wait for an answer, he unsnapped the fastening of her jeans and lifted her so he could slide them down her legs. ‘No panties?’ He flashed a sudden smile. ‘Why, Zara—’
Stark reality hit, making her quickly sit up, drawing her feet up to the table and her knees high in a defensive pose. She’d never before been naked in front of a man.
He cupped her face, tilting it so he could see right into her eyes.
‘The only thing I’m going to do,’ he promised gruffly, ‘is make you feel good. That’s all I want.’
Her breathing quickened and she fought down her suddenly emotional response. No one had wanted to see to her needs, wanted to take the time to treasure her feelings. Not in years.
She wanted to say something, but her throat was too tight. Her eyes burning.
He kissed her. Light and gentle and questioning. She moaned, leaning forward to deepen it. So quickly and easily he led her into that firestorm of desire.
He put his hands on her knees and gently pressed them apart.
‘Don’t hide from me,?
? he muttered against her mouth. ‘And don’t hold back.’
She couldn’t if she tried. Not when he kissed her like that. She let him pull her to the very edge of the table and then he stepped close again, right between her legs, so her most intimate part was pushed hard against his pelvis.
He was still in his jeans and she growled with frustration. She wanted to feel him this hard against her, but bared.
But he distracted her, kissing her breasts. Cupping them. Ever so gently kneading the full flesh, then nuzzling her puckered nipples, drawing one, then the other into his mouth to tease them.
She stared dazedly down at his dark head, watching his ministrations, the way he was almost worshipping her body, treating her with lavish care and attention. He moved lower, licking his way down her stomach, pressing her so she lay back down on the table. She gasped as he moved lower still, until he was right there, licking where she was most private. Most hot. Most wet.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. ‘Tomas...’
She didn’t know if she was asking him to stop, or keep going.
His hands were firm on her thighs, keeping them spread so he could explore her the way he wanted to. The way she now wanted him to. Because what he was doing felt so unspeakably good.
His hand lifted, teasing her further apart, rubbing right where she was most sensitive. And then he was there, kissing her intimately, his tongue darted and circled, then he sucked her most sensitive spot. She gasped at how personal it was, how good.
He didn’t stop despite her obvious surprise. And she didn’t want him to. Not now. She rocked instinctively, her movements increasing the more he caressed her, until he was kissing her sex the way he’d kissed her mouth. Claiming full possession—deep and lush and unrelenting and she thrashed beneath him, desperately aching for the release he was pushing her towards.
‘Please,’ she begged, unable to hold anything back. ‘Please, please.’
She thrust her hands into his hair, holding his head to her. But it wasn’t necessary—he wasn’t going anywhere. And he wasn’t showing any mercy. He kept kissing, rubbing, sucking. He reached up with his hand to torment her tight nipple. She arched, her body locking on the brink. She was going to die. She was almost in tears. She groaned again and again, her breathing ragged and desperate as she held fast on the edge as he licked her hot and fast. But she wanted more. So much more. She wanted him to feel as good as she did right now. She wanted all of him. In her. Coming with her. Feeling everything with her.