“You give yourself so completely,” he said quietly against her lips a moment later.
“What?” she asked, her lust-impaired brain having trouble decoding his words.
“Just now. When I make love to you. You give yourself completely every time I touch you,” he said, his gaze traveling over her face with a tight focus. “I can feel it, Emma. I’m not sure it’s a healthy thing for you.”
“No?” she whispered.
He shook his head, a steely look overcoming his face as he stared at her lips. “No. But I’m becoming addicted to it, nevertheless.”
Suddenly he was moving along the pool wall, pulling her with him. When he reached the shallow end of the pool, he transferred her, carrying her with one arm at her back, the other below her knees. He took the steps out of the water and walked onto the terrace, moving very quickly.
“Where are we going?” she asked him as he stormed toward the house, his gaze fixed on the entrance.
“To bed,” he replied grimly.
* * *
He carried her all the way to his bedroom suite, closing the door behind them with a slam. Emma looked around curiously when they entered the bathroom. It was a wonderland, featuring warm, mahogany paneling on the walls, streamlined but beautiful white marble sinks, and a bidet. A small lounging area with two deep taupe armchairs and a table was arranged before a huge, deep, white marble tub. He set her in front of a stainless steel and glass shower. He opened the door and twisted the handle. Immediately water started to spout out from various directions and steam began to build.
“Get in,” he urged, sinking his thumbs into his trunks. He pulled the waistband forward in order to release his cock and then bent to jerk them down his thighs. He stood.
“Emma?” he said in a hard tone.
Her gaze skipped up to his face. She’d been staring at his full, flagrant erection. It bobbed in the air, jutting out from his taut, toned body. He nodded at her bikini bottoms.
“Oh yeah,” she mumbled, removing the last remnant of her clothing. He followed her into the shower and shut the door. “It feels so good,” she moaned. Her wet skin had pebbled when he’d carried her swiftly through the air-conditioned house. The heat felt decadent on her overly sensitive skin. He stepped closer to her, chafing her arms. Emma went still at the sensation of the smooth, hard head of his penis against her belly. She looked up at him slowly. He was watching her, his gaze smoldering.
“Warm enough?” he murmured, still chafing her arms.
She nodded.
“Good,” he said, his head lowering. He brushed his wet, firm lips against hers. “Your mouth is killing me,” he said as he nibbled at her lips. “I’m going to have it now.”
The sexual heat haze that had cocooned her popped. She stiffened. “I’m . . . I’m not very good at it,” she said against his plucking lips.
He raised his head and looked down at her.
“Who says?”
“Me,” she said honestly. Colin had never complained. It was just that Emma didn’t like giving him oral sex. She found it uncomfortable and trying and . . . frustrating.
He frowned and reached to turn off the shower. He opened the door and steam billowed out.
“You’re anxious again,” he said, pulling her behind him into the palatial bathroom. He picked up a cushy white towel from a nearby rack and unrolled it.
“I can’t help it,” she said, a hint of misery in her tone. She hated to disappoint him, but—
He palmed her jaw and tilted her face up, halting her in midsentence. “I know. It’s okay,” he said simply. Her mouth sagged open. “You just haven’t been introduced to it properly.”
“There’s a proper . . . introduction?” she asked awkwardly. He opened the enormous towel and started to dry her briskly.
“I suspect there is,” he said wryly, chafing her back and ass with the towel.
“You mean you don’t know?”
He bent his neck and pressed his forehead against hers. “We’ll just play around a little bit. Nothing serious. Like we did with the desserts?” he reminded her gruffly.
“Oh,” she said, a little amazed. And excited. “Okay.”