“You have nice br**sts, Ava. I want to suck your ni**les.”
His whispered words in the dark made her wet, made her clit tingle, made her want to slide her hands down her jeans and make herself come right now. But before she could do anything, he lifted her shirt, forcing her arms in the air so he could remove it.
He laid his hand on her cheek and slid his palm down her neck, along her collarbone, and to her shoulder, then walked his fingers to the swell of her br**sts, caressing her with feather-light touches that made her gasp.
And then he lingered against her left breast, as if he were feeling her heartbeat. Just a slow slide of his fingers, back and forth. Maddening. And too damn slow. It was time to speed this along. She wanted him inside her right now.
She grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down, then reached for the clasp of her bra.
But he was faster than her. He pushed her hand away.
“That’s my job.”
“You’re too slow.”
“You in a hurry?”
She blew out a sigh. “Kind of, yes.”
“You have an appointment?”
He was laughing at her. Dammit. “No.”
“Then why rush this? We have all night.”
“Because. I want this. I want you. I want it now.”
He slid his arms around her waist and jerked her against him. Her thighs pressed against his, her hip rubbed his erection. She reached between them and palmed his cock, measuring him, feeling the heat of him that permeated the denim. When he hissed, she knew his control came at a great cost. Somehow it made her feel better, like her frenzy wasn’t as one-sided as she’d thought.
But he obviously had much greater control than she did at the moment. And she’d always prided herself on her control. But not tonight, and definitely not right now. She went for his belt buckle, and once again he stopped her.
“Uh uh. Not time for that yet, honey. We need to relax you.”
Relax? Out of the question.
But then he distracted her by kissing her. God, could he ever kiss. She couldn’t remember any man spending so much time kissing her, and especially not so thoroughly. He pulled her ponytail holder out and threaded his fingers through her hair, held her head and plundered her lips with the intent of a pirate searching for treasure.
His kisses mesmerized her, made her tingle all over, but they didn’t relax her. If that was his intent then he failed miserably. She heard the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears, felt her heart beating erratically against his chest, and her legs trembled so much that if he hadn’t been holding on to her she might have fallen. This—this was not relaxed. Did he have any idea what his kisses did to her?
And when he pulled his lips away from her mouth and kissed his way down her neck, using his tongue to lick her throat and nibble at that oh-so-tender spot on her shoulder, goose bumps broke out on her skin. And she was anything but cold. She was hot. On fire. Her ni**les were hard, tight points of tingling pleasure, just waiting for his touch, his mouth, anything that would give them relief, because with every movement they brushed against his shirt—his chest—only torturing her more.
He stepped back and reached for the clasp on her bra, unlatching it and baring her br**sts. Cool air slid over her ni**les, but it was no relief from the heat blasting her body. She held her breath, needing his touch right there. And when he slid his hands over her br**sts, his thumbs gliding over her distended ni**les, she couldn’t hold back the moan of exquisite pleasure that escaped her lips. The rough contact of his hard, calloused skin against her soft ni**les sent shocks of sensation straight to her pu**y. She arched her back for more.
“Like that?”
“Yes.” Her response had come out as no more than a whisper, a soft plea in the darkness. It was all she could voice. Her throat was dry, raspy from panting.
He put an arm around her back and swept another under her legs, lifting her, carrying her toward the bed. The room was pitch-black, the drapes drawn so no moonlight or neon from the Strip showed through. She didn’t know if she liked that they couldn’t see each other, or if she’d prefer the soft light of the room so she could see his face.
But this way, they had to rely on their other senses—on sound, on feel, on scent to guide each other.
He set her down on her feet next to the bed. She reached for his shoulders, laid her palms over his chest—a solid wall of muscle. She flexed her fingers in, then curled them, grabbing his shirt to lift.
This time, he let her, raised his arms so she could take off his shirt. After she discarded it, she laid her palms flat against his chest again. It was smooth, bare, and she let her hands discover his chest, his shoulders. Boulders of muscle that she traversed with her hands and fingertips, learning his body like she was reading a road map. His body was warm, hard all over. She wondered what he did with his time besides ride around the country. No man built like this spent all his time on a bike. He either worked out or worked physically for a living.
And now she could see the benefit of slowing down, of not being in so much of a rush for sex. How else could she get to experience the thrill of discovering his body, of running her hands over every plane, every muscle, sliding her hands down his arms and back up again, feeling the goose bumps rise on his flesh? It was such a heady experience, and empowering to realize that her touch elicited a reaction in him, gave him chills.
She rose on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck, pressing her br**sts against his chest. Her ni**les scraped his flesh and she couldn’t resist sliding them back and forth, even though the sensations aroused her to the point of madness.
Rick pulled her hips against him. His erection seemed harder than ever, if that was possible.
“You trying to tease me, woman?”
“You’re teasing me. It seems only fair to return the favor.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He pushed her, then, and in the dark she had no balance. Good thing she felt the bed against the back of her knees because she fell against the mattress, waiting for Rick to fall on top of her.
He didn’t. He was on the floor, pulling her boots off, pressing kisses to her feet as he gently removed each sock.
Her toes curled and she shuddered out a sigh. Okay, so maybe the tense frenzy she’d initially felt had dissolved into a puddle of delicious arousal now. Maybe Rick had been right about taking their time to enjoy the moment.
She hated being wrong.