It was a singular gift that she was giving herself before she decided... If she was going to move. To change her scenery forever. To get herself out of the echoes of the life that she had before.
So yeah, she wanted to be present for it. And like he was reading her mind, he reached out and flicked the lights on. It was bright. Bracingly so, but she understood. He wanted to do this with everything lit up. With no mystery, with no fuzzy edges. And she found it was what she wanted too.
“Take your clothes off, Kit Carson,” she said. “Because I have been wondering what was under them for far too long.”
His mouth quirked up into a grin, and he set her down slowly on the edge of the bed. Her heart hammered at the base of her throat, throbbing insistently.
She shivered as he reached up and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. His chest was well muscled, covered with dark hair, and she squirmed in her seat, as her center throbbed, moisture flooding her, because she was just so damned hot for him.
Women weren’t visual her ass. She could get off just looking at Kit Carson.
He shrugged the shirt off his broad shoulders, and her mouth went dry.
He was masculine perfection. His abs would have been highly regarded back when her family had first settled the area. They could’ve cleaned their clothes on them.
And he had those lines, narrowing down beneath his jeans, pointing down to that part of him that had hardened into an insistent bulge pushing at the front of his denim.
She moaned. She couldn’t help it. And he laughed. But not her. He slowly undid the buckle on his belt, undid his jeans and kicked his shoes off as he shrugged his pants and underwear down. As he revealed the whole rest of his body to her, and damn. Just damn.
She had really never. Not even in her wildest fantasies. He was beautiful. Thick and long and just gorgeous. She had a healthy appreciation for the male form in general. She liked the look of a naked man.
But she liked the look of this naked man better than she had ever liked anything in all her life.
And then he did something wholly unexpected. He knelt down slowly on the floor in front of the bed, and looked up at her. The expression in his eyes was wicked, the curve of his lips a sin.
He smoothed his hands up along her thighs, beneath the hem of her dress. And he found her panties, grabbing them and dragging them slowly down, removing them, but leaving her shoes still. Then he moved his hands to the insides of her knees, parted her legs, and she felt her face ignite as he examined her, his expression one of filthy awe.
“Do you have any idea,” he said, “how long I’ve wanted to taste you? You make me so hard. Do you know that? Do you know that I fantasized about you? I have a policy. I don’t do the married-woman thing. Sorry. But it’s been that long. And you tested me.”
“Well, I didn’t do the infidelity thing. So it’s a good thing you didn’t try.”
“But now it’s all good. And I have wanted you... I have wanted you.”
He pushed her dress up, exposing her completely, and his gaze only seemed to get hungrier. Then he kissed the inner part of her thigh, and she started to shake.
She couldn’t believe it was him. Kit Carson. Right there. Looking at her like that. Like he wanted to devour her.
And she knew he was going to. All of her nerve endings were at attention. Her whole body on high alert.
His mouth moved higher, pressing soft kisses on her thighs, and then, then, he put his mouth right over her, her center, and she let out a short, shocked sound, because even though she had known it was coming, the reality of it was just so much more. His mouth was hot and confident, and his tongue went deep inside her before he slid it over the most sensitive part of her, then sucked her deep into his mouth. He shoved his hands beneath her ass, and brought her hard against him, as uncompromising here as he was everywhere else.
And she lost herself. In the way his shoulders held her legs wide, and the rough feel of his fingers, digging into her flesh. And the white-hot pleasure that his mouth gave her. She lost herself utterly. Completely. She clung to him, and she felt her climax, quick and impossibly intense, building inside her, and she wanted to resist it. Wanted to stop it. Because once she had one, she wasn’t going to have another, and she had really wanted it when he was in her.
But there was no fighting it. It was too good. Too enticing and tempting, so she let go. And she couldn’t help it. She screamed. She rolled her hips in rhythm with the waves of pleasure that were moving through her. He rose up on his feet, growled and grabbed hold of her hips, lifting her back farther onto the bed as he covered her. He ripped her dress down, and then off completely, throwing it onto the floor. She was still wearing her shoes.
He kissed her. And she returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him everything she had. He covered her, his chest hair rough against her breasts. And she moved her hands all over his body. His chest, his back, feeling all the muscles there, down to his ass. She parted her legs, encouraging him between them. And she could feel the hard press of his arousal against the entrance to her body. She moaned, rubbing against him, slippery with need, but he didn’t give her what she wanted. Not quite yet. He lowered his head, and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
And she ignited.
He sucked her hard, and she wrapped her legs around his, arching against him, trying to assuage the ache between her legs. She was so close. Again. Already.
“Please,” she whispered.
And then he thrust home.
She gasped. He was so big. And she hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Years. So it was a little bit of a shock.
Sex toys were not Kit Carson. He was bigger and more. Hot and insistent. And he was in control.