I want to undo those bows and watch her panties fall away from her body. Then I want to get down on my knees and bury my mouth between her legs. I know she’ll taste hot and wild. I wonder how many flicks of my tongue will make her come.
Fuck, I’m beyond eager to find out.
“Come here.” She grabs hold of my tie—I think she likes doing that—and pulls me to her, my mouth falling onto hers. She opens for me easily, her tongue doing a wicked dance against mine that has me so hard I’m afraid I’ll bust through the fabric of my pants, I want her so damn bad.
I guess the kiss is her answer to my earlier question. I know I shouldn’t want this either. That if I think about it too much, I’ll put a stop to the craziness. Because this is crazy, without a doubt. She’s too prickly for me.
But the prickliness has all but evaporated, leaving a passionate, responsive woman in my arms. This woman shoving at my jacket until I shake it off blows my mind. What the f**k are we doing? We’re going to have sex in the kitchen of her bakery. I’ve known her for only a couple of days. I’m trying to buy out her family because they’re desperate for money.
And I’m trying to get in her pants because I’m desperate to be inside her.
She seems just as desperate, furiously attacking the buttons of my shirt before she yanks on my tie yet again, loosening it around my neck. I shrug out of it all then reach for her, pushing her shirt up and over her head, my mouth going dry when I see her br**sts barely covered in the white, lacy bra.
Rosy pink ni**les press against the lace as if they’re yearning to be free. I reach for her, flicking open the front clasp. The cups spring away, revealing her full, perfect br**sts, and I cup them in my palms, brushing the tips with my thumbs.
“Oh God.” She thumps the back of her head against the wall, her eyes sliding closed as I continue to caress her br**sts. I don’t want to stop touching her, watching her, enjoying her. She’s so damn responsive and I want to savor her, but my body—specifically my overeager and greedy-as-hell cock—has other plans.
Unable to resist, I lean in and suck a plump nipple into my mouth, lashing at it with my tongue, sucking hard. She threads her fingers into my hair, holding me to her, and I lift my eyes, watching her. My skin tightens in response at her expression. How lost she seems, how overwhelmed.
Fuck, I can’t wait to see her pretty face when she comes.
Within seconds we’re a flurry of hands and mouths. Clothes being shed until they form a big pile near our feet, shoes kicked off, condom retrieved from my wallet, until we’re both naked and panting, grinding against each other but not necessarily doing anything about it.
Yet.
I pull away from her to tear open the condom wrapper then roll it on my aching cock. I can’t wait to be inside her, can’t wait to pound my way to orgasm and lose myself in her at least for a little while. Forget the battle and the angry words and the fact that I’m stealing away her heritage, just focus on the two of us together. Connected.
She whispers my name, and I glance up, find her staring at me with wide eyes and parted, swollen red lips. I go to her, kissing her soundly as I grab hold of her by the waist and lift her up. She weighs nothing; my hands grip her perfect ass as she winds her long, smooth legs around my middle, and I press her against the wall. My c**k poised perfectly to thrust forward inside her.
“You’re big.” She breathes the words, my erection pressing against the soft give of her belly, and I smile, reaching toward her so I can brush stray tendrils of wavy damp hair away from her forehead. She closes her eyes and releases a shuddering breath, as if she has to prepare herself for this moment, and I’m suddenly worried.
Is she changing her mind? Ready to back out? Fuck, I’m about to enter her. If I think about it too long, I could probably come like an overeager teenager if I don’t watch it. I want to make this good, I want to make it last, but not if she doesn’t want this to happen . . .
“Now you’re the one who’s thinking too much,” she whispers when I don’t say anything, amusement filling her voice.
I meet her gaze to see she’s smiling at me, the apprehension still lingering in her eyes, but I can’t worry about it now. Carefully, so slowly I know I’m trying to kill myself by torture, I enter her body for the first time. I register the quick intake of her breath, the way her body tenses up for the briefest moment as I push inside. The give of her welcoming body as I go deeper, all that silky, hot wet flesh wrapping around me, sends me straight into oblivion.
Closing my eyes, I hold steady, my racing heart roaring in my ears. I press my forehead to hers and swallow hard, trying to keep my shit together, but it’s so damn hard when she feels so damn good.
“Ohmigod.” Her words run together as she shifts against me, sending me deeper and we both groan. “Move, Gage. Please.”
I do as she asks, surprised at her request. Breathing deep, I pull almost all the way out, feeling her inner walls drag against my length before I plunge deep inside and she clings to me, a low moan sounding close to my ear. Her arms are around my neck, her face buried at the spot between my shoulder and throat. I can feel her lips move against my skin as she speaks.
“More,” she encourages. “Harder, Gage. Please.”
Christ. With that kind of encouragement I can have her bumping against the wall within seconds but I don’t . . . want to hurt her.
My brain registers this weird realization and I pause, swamped with confusion. I always ensure the woman I’m with is satisfied, but I chase after my orgasm as quick as I can like any other guy. Guess that makes me a selfish prick. I think Marina might’ve even called me a selfish prick today, or at least a variation of it.