‘Your turn,’ he said.
‘What?’ she asked, her eyes widening.
‘To take off your sweatshirt,’ he challenged.
Her brows launched up her forehead, and vivid colour mottled her pale skin as a string of emotions rioted across her expressive features—surprise, panic, awareness.
The admiration that had blindsided him the night before returned in a rush.
Either she was an award-worthy actress, or the most transparent woman he had ever met. But whichever it was, that blush only made him want her more.
‘But I’m no wearing anything underneath,’ she said.
He grinned, he couldn’t help it. ‘So?’
The fierce determination flashed into her eyes, and his desire became turbocharged. But still it surprised him when she gripped the sweatshirt and lifted it over her head—the gesture somehow as brave as it was provocative. Why did he get the impression she’d never done this before, when she must have? Surely no woman could be this alluring without practice.
The soft mounds of her breasts bounced as she flung away the top, making the need tighten in his gut. But then she folded a concealing arm over her beautiful rack.
His amusement dried up, as his mouth watered, the desire to capture the ruched peaks all but unbearable.
‘Hey,’ he said, the protest so husky it was barely audible. ‘That’s cheating.’
To his astonishment she dropped her arm.
‘Can I touch?’ he asked, the boulder of need growing to impossible proportions.
Her gaze remained fixed on his, but just when he felt sure she would refuse him, she murmured, ‘Aye.’
The rush of relief made him light-headed as he cradled the plump flesh and heard her harsh gasp.
Unable to wait a moment longer to taste her, he leant forward and circled the delicate nipple with his tongue. Reverence and desperation combined to make him moan. Her fingers sank into his hair, her body bowing back, holding him against her as he trapped the tender peak, rejoicing in the erotic feel of it elongating.
Her sobs made the raw need arrow down, as he suckled, and licked, nipped and tormented. But the game they’d been playing became deadly serious as he felt his cast-iron control start to shatter.
Scooping her petite body into his arms, he placed her on his bed, the adrenaline rush joined by the painful throbbing in his groin.
He kicked off his sweats, and the huge erection sprang free. She gave a startled gasp and he hesitated—her gaze as shocked as it was eager.
‘Are you okay with this?’ he forced himself to ask, even though the urge to plunge inside her was already tearing at his control like a ravening dog. He knew he was a big guy, women had commented on his size before, but usually to flatter him. She looked a lot less sure of herself all of a sudden.
He waited, ready to stop if she asked him to, even though it would probably kill him. But she didn’t say anything, simply nodded, as the slight tremor made her high, firm breasts quiver.
His breath gushed out.
Brushing his palms up the outside of her legs, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his own shorts and dragged them down her thighs. Her panting sobs spurred him on.
All she wore now were his athletic socks. He’d never seen anything more erotic in his life.
Caging her small body in, he captured the hard nipple in his mouth again, while his fingers found the slick seam of her sex. Carefully, cautiously, he delved, probed. Damn, she was so wet, so ready for him... And so tight.
Her breath hitched in raw heady pants as he found the hard nub, and circled it, mercilessly drawing out her pleasure. She writhed, bucked, her startled cries echoing in his ears.
‘You like that?’ he murmured, trying to sound amused, in charge of this seduction, even as he could feel his control slipping further.
‘Oh... Yes, yes,’ she cried, lost in her own passion.
Grasping her thighs, he found himself sinking between her legs, the desire to taste her, to bring her to a mind-numbing orgasm, the only thing keeping him from losing it altogether.