He would have battled his own need for her for Fleur’s sake. He’d have forced it down if she didn’t want him. Ruthlessly ignored it, no matter how much it cost him.
But he didn’t have a prayer of refusing her.
I need you.
Her soft words still circled around his brain, a command he wouldn’t walk away from. Not after the way he’d hurt her five years ago. Not after how long he’d spent denying his feelings for her.
So Drake crossed the threshold of her darkened bedroom, still carrying her in his arms. She remained wrapped around him, ankles locked around his back. Every step he took across the cool plank floor created friction between their bodies, the warmth of her sex riding him.
“Where are the condoms?” He tightened his grip on her, needing to minimize the bump and grind motion until he was planted inside her. Deep inside her. He was beyond revved up from knowing that she wanted him, hearing the desire in her voice and seeing the way her eyelashes fluttered at each brush of his body against hers.
“I’ll get them,” she murmured, unwinding her legs from his waist so she could jump to the floor.
As she disappeared into a bathroom off to one side, Drake tugged off his T-shirt and strode deeper into her bedroom. It was a small space in a home that had been built in a different era, when a sleeping chamber was meant solely for that. But ivory walls and minimal furnishings—a full-size bed draped in a simple white duvet, a faded steamer trunk for a nightstand, a single chest of drawers—provided the necessary comforts. He tilted the dark plantation shutters that covered the lone window, allowing slivers of moonlight to fall on the bed.
He’d reached for the button on his jeans, flicking the first open, when Fleur returned. Her bare feet padded silently across the hardwood floor, her red knit dress swishing around her thighs even as it clung to her breasts where he’d eased open the bodice earlier.
Did she have any idea how sexy she was?
“I found them,” she announced breathlessly.
He slipped his arms around her waist, hauling her against his chest. Then he let his hands roam all over her, savoring the feel of her perfect-size breasts, the stiff points of her nipples.
“Do you remember the shared horseback ride?” he spoke the words into her ear, giving himself a view down the front of her dress where her chest rose and fell in quick, hard pants. “When I held you in front of me, just like this?”
Her hair caught on his whiskers as she nodded, her head lolling to one side in a way that left her neck exposed. Greedily, he bent to taste her there, kissing and licking his way up her throat. The warm vanilla scent of her intensified as he reached behind her ear.
“This is how I wanted to touch you that day.” He dragged one shoulder of her dress down her arm, baring the red lace cup of her bra and the creamy swell of breast above it.
With one hand, he palmed the soft weight, squeezing and molding, teasing the tight peak with his thumb. With his other hand, he dragged up the hem of her dress until a red scrap of satin between her thighs was visible. He must have stared a second too long, mesmerized by the body he’d fantasized about so many times, because Fleur arched her back in a way that tilted her hips against his lap.
“You did?” She reached up to encircle his neck with her arms, the action lifting her breasts in a way that nearly brought them right out of the bra.
“Damned right, I did,” he growled low, knowing he needed her naked soon. “And I’ve been imagining it ever since.”
He cupped the V between her thighs, her damp panties clinging to her. He nearly lost it then and there, knowing she wanted him almost as much as he craved her.
“Show me,” she urged him on, her eyes closed, dark lashes fanning over her cheeks. “You don’t have to imagine anymore.”
Something about the way she said it—her tone, maybe, or the languid movements of her hips as she rocked against him—told him how much she liked what he was doing to her. So he took his time making her feel good, drawing out the pleasure. Narrating it for her.
“I wanted to see these first.” He hauled down the lacy cup of her bra, peeling it away from her breast. Then, trapping the nipple between his fingers, he squeezed lightly. “Find out what touches you liked best here.”
He couldn’t wait to lick her there, too, but he wasn’t finished reminding her of that ride when he’d been pressed up against her, his hand brushing her bare waist from that too-short top that didn’t cover her.
“What else did you think about?” she demanded, her legs shifting restlessly now. Her thighs twitched around his hand, where he clamped an uncompromising hold between her legs. “I find it hard to believe my breasts would have capturedallyour attention.”
“You will not disparage these on my watch,” he warned her, tugging the other shoulder of her dress off so he could fondle the warm weight. “They’re perfect.”
“Drake.” She made the word a plea, swaying and undulating against him. “Hurry, please. More.”
He’d never had a lap dance until today and now, he’d never want another after the way Fleur moved with a hypnotic roll of her hips.
“I want this, too. Have wanted it for so long,” he admitted, slipping two fingers beneath the damp satin panties.
Discovering something infinitely softer. Sweeter. Hotter.
He captured the tight bundle of nerves at her apex and rolled it between his fingers, mimicking what he’d done to her nipple. She gasped. Tensed. Her whole body coiled and went still, waiting.