Eyes rolling back in her head, she squirmed against him, not sure if she was encouraging him or trying to end the torture. No—she was definitely encouraging him. Who knew her neck was so sensitive? She sure hadn’t.
He eased away, his chest heaving with the force of his breath, much like hers. She realized she hadn’t participated much—just held onto him for dear life as she enjoyed the ride. She should probably remedy that, but there was one thing she wanted to do first. One thing she had to do.
Reaching out with hands that had the slightest tremble to them, she grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled upward, hoping he’d get the hint to take over. He was far too tall for her to be able to get it off of him without his help. Thankfully, he picked up on what she wanted and reached an arm behind his head, grabbing a fistful of the material and pulling it off.
Her eyes widened as she got her first look at his bare chest. He was thickly muscled, which she knew—but seeing it literally in the flesh was a whole different thing. His shoulders were large and broad, giving way to bulging biceps and thick forearms in one direction, and thick pecs in the front. The hills and valleys of his abs were well-defined, and he had a V of muscle on his hips that literally made her feel stupid.
And highlighting all those delicious muscles were tattoos. Across his collarbone, his bicep on one arm, a half sleeve on the other. And tats down either side of his abs, one disappearing beneath the low riding waistband of his jeans.
Damned if her mouth didn’t water as she took him in. She’d never known she had a thing for tattoos, but apparently she did. He had a beautiful body, but the ink decorating his skin turned it into a work of art.
She was so absorbed with eating him up with her eyes that when he reached for the hem of her shirt, she lifted her arms so he could take it off without remembering to be shy or embarrassed. It wasn’t until it was on the floor and she felt the coolness of the air against her skin that she even realized it was off.
Her eyes flew to his and she started to raise her arms to shield herself, but he shook his head at her. The look in his eyes was so warm, so appreciative, the desire he felt for her so evident, that she slowly let her arms drop back down to her sides.
Shaking his head again, he swallowed hard, his eyes roving over her. “Fuck, Tarun. You’re so amazingly beautiful.”
She’d honestly never felt like she was. She was passably pretty, maybe, but that was it. Under his gaze, though, she felt like a goddess, and she believed that, to him at least, she was beautiful.
Lifting her hands, she set them gently against his pecs and slowly trailed her hands down until her fingers were skimming his abs. He sucked in a breath and she felt it under her palms, smiling as she raised up and pressed her lips to his right pec, kissing softly. Unable to help herself, her tongue darted out, and she tasted his skin.
Groaning, he gently pushed her back, shaking his head at her. “If you keep that up, this’ll be over before either of us wants.”
She smirked but it quickly faded as he raised his hand and traced a finger over the strap of her light green bra, following it over the lacy, scalloped edge, leaving tingles erupting on her breasts. Glancing up, his eyes completely golden, he winked before repeated the same route with his tongue. Reaching behind her, he unsnapped her bra and pulled it off, his fingers lightly grazing her skin as he pulled it off.
Unlike with her shirt, that time she realized what he was doing. She was just too far gone, too intent on feeling his touch against her skin, to care. A sound of appreciation came from deep within his throat, the sound sending chills racing over her skin.
Reaching out, he gently touched his fingertip to her nipple, drawing a circle around it before grazing the bud. “I’ve wondered what color these would be. Cinnamon. I love that they’re a cinnamon color.”
He cupped both breasts in his hands, kneading for a moment before bending over and running his tongue over one of her nipples. Gasping, she thrust her fingers into his hair and held his head, half scared that he’d stop.
And she never wanted him to stop.
She had nothing to worry about, though. He flicked her nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, and his fingers played with the other one, mimicking some of his movements. She moaned, unable to help herself. It felt overwhelmingly amazing, and every pull of his mouth shot directly down to her center.
He continued his play, switching his mouth back and forth between her nipples, as she lost herself to the pleasure, finding it hard to believe that anything could feel that good. Maybe she’d die from the pleasure. In that moment, it didn’t sound like a very farfetched notion, but it didn’t scare her, because damn—what a way to go.
Letting her nipple slip from her mouth, he lunged up and fused his mouth to hers. She thrust her tongue in his mouth, dueling it with his, the heat in her blood boiling over as she felt his fingers fumbling with the snap of her jeans.
He’d been so smooth, so controlled, before then. She knew he was feeling the same level of desire that she was, but he’d been controlling himself.
He was losing that control, though—she could tell by the way he was having trouble unbuttoning her jeans. Satisfaction rolled through her at the knowledge. He prided himself on his control, and the fact that she was making him lose it was heady stuff.
Once he had her jeans undone, he didn’t immediately pull them off. He kept kissing her as he walked her back toward her bed. The backs of her knees touched the mattress and only then did he break the kiss, backing away to unsnap his own jeans and shove them down.
And holy hell. The tattoo on his side stretched all the way down his thigh, reaching just above his knee. Her own knees went weak at the sight and she started to sink down onto the bed, but he laughed, shaking his head.
“Not just yet. Let’s get your jeans off first.”
She nodded faintly, watching as he hooked his fingers into her waistband and peeled her jeans off. Stepping out of them, she lost her balance, giggling as she fell back onto the mattress. Her laughter quickly cut off as it put her eye level with his groin and her eyes widened as she took him in.
She’d been so focused on his ink that she hadn’t even noticed his privates. Dick, she said to herself. It’s his dick and you can say the word. Be brave.
It said something, that she’d been so focused on his tat that she hadn’t even noticed his dick. It was long and thick, and she should be intimidated, especially since she’d never had sex before, but she wasn’t.
A fact that became clear as she felt desire and moisture rush to the spot between her thighs.
Pulling her gaze away as Luke moved, she focused on his face, breath catching at the intensity she found there. He stalked forward a bit and she scooted back on the bed, until her head was lying on the pillow. He followed her until he was over her, hovering above her, propped up on massive arms that were holding him up with ease.