He came down over her, easing her onto the mattress. His mouth settled on hers. She loved the feel of his weight on her. He was so hot...so hard. She drank in his elemental maleness, never before feeling the stark power of her own soft femininity than at the moment, because of the delicious contrast of their straining bodies.
He lifted his head, his hands encircling her waist. He moved, sliding her along the comforter with him until they lay on their sides facing each other, their heads resting on the pillows. His mouth continued to coax her, enliven her as it moved over her lips, cheek and neck, demanding and feverish.
She slid her fingers just beneath his shirt and rubbed. The sensation of his smooth, thick skin covering dense, warm muscle made her grasp both sides of his shirt and part them. The sounds of the snaps popping sent a thrill of excitement through her. She broke their kiss and pressed her face between the cloth, loving the taste of his naked skin, the texture of the springy hair on his chest. He made a low, rough, desperate sound.
He opened both of his hands on her waist, the gesture a blatant reminder of how much larger he was than her, how much of her he could hold in his grasp. She pressed feverish kisses over his chest. He slid his hands upward along the fabric of her sweater, plumping her breasts from below with the hard ridge of his forefinger and thumb. She responded to the erotic caress by tasting a small, erect nipple with her tongue. He made a muffled sound in his throat and covered her breasts with his hands.
She whimpered against his skin while he molded her to his palms.
“Nick,” she pleaded softly.
“I know. I’m going to undress you.” She helped him by raising her arms when he drew her sweater over her head. She shivered uncontrollably when he opened his hand at her waist and slid it over her belly.
“As soft as I thought you’d be. Softer.” He held her stare as his long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans and he deftly unbuttoned the fly. The movement of his hand next to her stomach and pelvis caused a molten sensation to spread at her core. “Turn over on your belly.”
“Wha—” she asked, confused by his request.
“It’s okay,” he assured. He put his hand on her shoulder and guided her. She’d never felt so vulnerable—or so excited—as she lay there on her stomach and he began to slide her jeans down over her hips. She gasped in aroused surprise when he leaned down and pressed his mouth to the base of her spine.
“I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw it,” he grated out roughly as he kissed her tattoo; shivers of pleasure rippled up her spine.
He pressed his hot mouth jus
t above the crevice of her buttocks, and Deidre knew he kissed the base of her brilliant rose tattoo that included a golden caduceus spiraling up the stem. She’d gotten the tattoo in an impulsive moment a year ago in Germany. Until that second, it had been a private, secret indulgence. Or so she’d thought.
“When...when did you see my tattoo?” she asked in a strangled voice.
“I went into the workout facility at The Pines one afternoon a few months back and you were on the treadmill with your back to me. I saw it then—most of it anyway. I’ve been waiting to see the rest.” One of his hands cradled her hip as he continued to study her tattoo with his lips and tongue. She shivered in rising excitement. “You don’t wear much when you work out, Deidre.”
“I didn’t know I’d have an audience.”
“An avid one.”
She muffled a moan by pressing her mouth against the pillow when he slipped his hand beneath the satin of her panties and shaped one of her bottom cheeks to his palm. She’d never felt herself to be the focus of so much desire in her life. His mouth rose along her spine, kissing, licking, biting gently at the sensitive skin on either side of the vertebrae. When he reached the cloth of her bra, he flicked open the fastener so effortlessly, she blinked. Then his mouth was back on her skin, finding her neck while his hand explored the contours of her thighs and hip.
“Give me your mouth,” he muttered, and she twisted her torso. His lips found hers, his tongue a sleek, demanding invader. Again, she drowned in his taste, turning on her hip and drawing closer, seeking more...needing more. Her entire body was going liquid with desire. She felt his hand slide along her thigh and realized dazedly he was drawing her jeans off her legs. He broke their kiss and leaned down to peel off her socks. Her breath caught when he caressed her calf and lingered on her thigh. She panted softly when he lay down next to her. He raised a hand and slowly removed her bra, baring her to his gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmured quietly. Enough light flooded in from the hallway that she was able to watch his face as he examined her. He looked transfixed, his expression almost grim with desire. She shivered when his hand coasted along the side of her waist and ribs and then lingered on a breast. His hand covered her. Her nipples tightened almost painfully. He gave a low groan before he seized her mouth again. She fumbled with his shirt, baring his torso and touching him greedily. He finessed her sensitive nipple with his fingertips.
Desire sluiced through her, so sharp she broke their kiss and gave a plaintive cry.
His exploring hand lowered, stroking her hips and belly. He murmured broken words of praise into her ear—a ragged, passionate anthem. Deidre felt herself melting into a heady sensual torpor, utterly intoxicated by the sound of Nick’s rough voice and the sensation of his talented, stroking hand.
He slid beneath her panties.
His fingers sought. She parted her thighs for him, wanting to be found.
His groan sounded like it scorched his throat.
She heard his voice as if from a distance as she drowned in sensation. His fingertips may be blunt and large, but he knew precisely what to do with them. He kissed her mouth more slowly than before, deliberately, languorously. He watched her face through heavy, narrowed eyelids. A delicious burn grew in her until she moaned in mounting excitement and bit at his lower lip, taunting him into giving her what she needed.
“That’s right,” he growled. “That’s the Deidre I know.”
He bent his head and covered the tip of her breast with his warm, wet mouth, laving a nipple with his tongue. When he drew on her firmly, she cried out.
She grasped for his waist as pleasure broke in her flesh, her fingers sinking beneath his leather belt and scraping warm skin as if she thought the wave of sensation would drown her. He pressed his finger into her body as she climaxed. She shuddered around him.
“I think you might have been meant for my touch.”