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She needed to be touched. Her flesh felt tight, achy. The need to be touched was overwhelming. She ached. The ache was like a sickness, like a fever she couldn’t get rid of.

“I’ll

touch you whenever you like, Risa; you have only to ask.”

Weakness flooded her; need exploded inside her. Her hands moved to his shoulders, gripped the hard muscle there, and her lips lowered to his.

She had never kissed anyone, by her own instigation, her own initiation.

Micah sat beneath her, his body tense, humming with power and promise as her lips touched his and she felt a cry welling in her throat.

For the first time she had the chance to learn the shape of his lips against hers, the feel of them. Her lips parted, her tongue stroked over the fuller line of the lower curve, and she tasted coffee and heat. She tasted the man slowly, rather than simply the hunger that poured through her.

Her head tilted, lips parted over his, her tongue touched the seam of his lips and she felt lost in the wonder of the sensuality that began to build slowly between them.

Not just lust. It was so much more.

“Touch me,” she breathed against his lips. “Please, Micah, touch me.”

A groan rasped from his throat and his hands moved from the hard grip they had on her hips as his lips parted beneath hers, and then she didn’t know who was kissing who, who controlled and who led.

One hand lifted to her face, his palm cupping her neck. She loved that touch. It made her feel cherished, made her feel surrounded by him. The other hand pushed beneath the loose hem of her shirt. It stroked up her back; his fingertips touched her flesh on the way back down. Electric pleasure seemed to surround her as she allowed herself to sink beneath the waves of sensation that built inside her.

The uncharted waters of slow, building heat were exhilarating. The touch of his lips against hers as she learned the shape, the hunger, of a kiss gave her a heady confidence. The feel of his neck and shoulders beneath her touch, the feel of his heartbeat thundering in his chest, gave her courage.

He had to enjoy her, she thought desperately. Would he kiss her with such hunger if he didn’t? Would his heart race with excitement?

She jerked, her thoughts flying from her head as his palm cupped a breast, his thumb finding her nipple as a ragged cry tore from her throat.

Her head jerked back, eyes opening. She should have kept them closed, because the sight of his kiss-swollen, damp lips sent a punch of reaction to her womb.

“Micah. Tell me what to do,” she gasped, her hands clenching his biceps now. “Tell me what to do.”

“What you’re doing,” he groaned. “Let me touch you, Risa. Just feel good for me, love. Just let it feel good. This is all, just touch. Just touch, baby. Nothing more.”

Just touch. She could handle just touch, maybe.

“Here. Let’s take this off for you.” The hem of her shirt rose.

Risa lifted her arms, eager to be rid of the confining material as he stripped it from her.

“Damn. Look how pretty.”

Both hands cupped her breasts, framing the violet lace of the half bra that framed her flesh and lifted the swollen mounds to him.

Risa ran her hands over his shoulders, pushed them beneath the edges of his shirt, and rasped over his flesh with her nails.

It wasn’t enough. As his lips moved over her neck, angling too slowly to the rise of her breasts, she tugged at his shirt. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons; she was certain one might have popped off.

She wasn’t watching for the building arcs of dark intensity inside her now. It was just touch, he had promised her. She didn’t have to worry about being thrown into a maelstrom that might tear her soul from her body.

Just touch was safe.

Her breathing was harsh, heavy. The thunder of her heartbeat echoed in her ears as hunger settled heavily between her thighs.

Her clit was tormented. Inside, her pussy throbbed and ached; her juices slid from her, preparing her, begging for touch as she pulled at the open edges of his shirt.

He released her long enough to tear it off and throw it aside. Once the material dropped from his hands, he was touching her again.


Tags: Lora Leigh Elite Ops Romance