“Was it so painful?”
“Seeing you get naked and not touch you?” He looked up at her in the flickering candlelight, her skin tinged with warm, golden tones. “I wouldn’t call it painful so much as...a test of restraint.”
He spanned her rib cage with one hand and lowered a kiss to her flat abdomen just above the waistband of her jeans. Just below the belly-button snake ring that had driven him crazy that first day.
“Doesn’t anyone ever tell you no?” she teased, her hands combing through his hair, down the back of his neck, over his shoulders.
“Not anyone that I’ve ever wanted to say yes to this badly.” Unfastening the clasp on the denim, he shoved her jeans down her hips, kissing his way along the lace trim of neon pink panties.
She stilled when he dipped his tongue beneath the edge, tasting her soft skin. Her nails flexed into his flesh and she gasped.
Pushing the denim farther down her legs, he coaxed one foot off the ground and then the other, tugging the jeans away and the pink underwear with them.
“Now you,” she urged, rotating her finger in a spinning motion, as if to show him how fast she wanted him to move. “Can you take those off?”
He could see the flush in her cheeks and the bright light in her blue eyes that said she wanted this as much as him. There was no more taking their time. Without answering, he stood to wrestle worn jeans over unyielding flesh, kicking aside boxer shorts, too. The only thing he kept was the condom packet he placed on an arm of the sofa. But before he could lower her onto the couch with him, she sank to her knees in front of him.
And he’d thought he was done testing his restraint? He bit the inside of his cheek as she brushed soft lips up the rigid length of his shaft. The sight of her kissing and tasting him, her hands splayed on his hip bones, sent a hot surge through his blood. Grinding his teeth together, he tried not to think about how good she felt or how sweet she looked or how much he wanted to be inside her before he lost it.
But he waited. Held back. Twined his fingers in wild curls that would be gorgeous any color she dyed them. And only when his release was imminent—tingling in the base of his erection and driving him out of his ever-loving mind—did he lift her to her feet. Her satisfied smile made his restraint worth it, that sweet, feminine confidence obvious.
He didn’t let her savor the moment, though. He’d waited until the last possible second, and now he needed her. Tearing apart the condom packet he’d left out, he rolled on protection. Lowered her to the wide leather cushions of the sectional and positioned himself between her thighs.
Light freckles sprinkled across her chest and shoulders called to his tongue. He kissed a path between them, licking and nipping his way across her collarbone while he coaxed a finger inside her. Tested her warmth and heat. She arched her back. Rolled her hips into his touch.
He could have touched her like that all day if he hadn’t already been pushed to the edge himself. But she was more than ready for this. For him. The slick wetness on his finger drove him wild. He circled her sex, rolling his thumb along the swollen nub, working the sensitized flesh until she moaned and undulated against him.
When he entered her, she tossed her head back, urging him on with sweet, incoherent words of encouragement. She wanted him, she needed him, please, please, please....
Like a siren’s call, the breathy sound of her made him forget everything except this moment. Except eliciting the next soft moan for more. He thrust his hips harder. Faster. She moved with him until her legs locked around his waist, holding him fast. She arched hard against him, hips grinding into his as she found her release.
Feminine muscles tightened and contracted, softened and then tightened again. And again. Miranda was caught in a storm of sweet, sensual waves, her whole body riding the crest of that hot momentum. He held her through it, taking all those lush, intimate touches until her hips stopped bucking, her thighs loosening just a little.
Then he thrust just twice more. Burying himself deep inside her, he came so hard he saw stars. Stars. That wasn’t waxing poetic. He was pretty sure it was the return of oxygen and blood to his brain, after his body had held it hostage for so long to fuel the headiest sex of his life.
Collapsing to one side so as not to crush her, he waited for his breath to return. Or his senses. He could have slept with her in his arms right there all night and been perfectly content.
But this date wasn’t supposed to be about him. He’d arranged the horseback ride for her. A meal they hadn’t eaten—for her. He needed to stop getting distracted with how much he wanted her, and focus on how he could keep her.