Instant Gratification (Wilder #2)(75)

She was warm and full and perfect.

Beneath his palms, her nipples were already hard, and he rasped his thumbs over them, feeling them pucker even more. Not enough. He flicked open her bra and tugged the straps down her arms, sucking in a breath at the sight of her. Lowering his head, splaying his hands on her bare back to pull her even closer, and opened his mouth on her.

“If I get bit by a mosquito,” she gasped, “I’m coming after you.”

“Come after me.”

She huffed out a laugh as she tugged open his pants. Making herself at home inside of them, she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking…squealing—which was very ego-boosting, until he realized the squeal was for the bee that buzzed by them.

“Did you bring bug spray?”

“You’ll be okay,” he promised.

“How do you know?”

He rasped his thumbs over her bared nipples. “I’ll keep you covered.”

“I’m pretty uncovered, Stone.”

He spread out his shirt on the rock behind him, lay her on it, and then towered over her, his gaze sweeping down the length of her gorgeous body as he pulled a condom from his pocket.

“Always prepared,” she murmured. “Like a Boy Scout.”

“Not quite.” He slid down her body, spreading open-mouthed kisses as he went, loving the taste of her, the scent of her, the way she arched and writhed beneath his touch. He could feel her heart pounding in excitement, in arousal and need, and his own matched it, beating in tune to hers.

Just sex? Hell, no.

But he could admit he understood why she wanted to believe it. That she was leaving certainly played into it some, though actually that worked in her favor.

It gave her permission to try to keep her heart out of this.

Good luck, he thought, because his heart hadn’t had any such luck at all. He knew it. He accepted it.

Just as he accepted that this scared the living shit right out of her. This connection, this bond.

She didn’t do connections or bonds, at least not effectively. It wasn’t all her fault. She hadn’t had the best of luck keeping people in her life. They didn’t tend to stick.

But he did. He was good at it, too. Good at a couple of things, he thought, kissing her belly, her ribs as she inhaled sharply, going tense beneath him, quivering with anticipation. Beneath his mouth, her skin was heating up, flushing with arousal. His fingers wrapped around her ankle, bending her knee, placing her foot on the rock so that she was open for him.

Oh, yeah. She wanted him. He let his thumb glide over her creamy heat and she shivered.

“Such a bad idea,” she murmured, even as she rocked up to meet his touch.

“Bad is relative.”

“Yes, but I’m here to learn to be laid-back and chill.” She came up on her elbow and jabbed a pointy finger toward him. “All you ever do is rev me up.”

“Sometimes, you have to rev up first.”

“You just made that up.”

“Nope.”

“Seriously, you just pulled that right out of your ass.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Pay attention. The instructions. You have to repeat them to make them stick. Do you remember them?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Then close your eyes.”

She was looking up at him with a mix of heat and irritation and affection. She hadn’t looked away, not once, and that was so damn attractive. She was a woman who wasn’t coy, a woman who might take a hell of a long time—weeks, thank you very much—to decide to give him a shot, but once she made up her mind, she was on board. Need and yearning and lust swirled in his gut at that, and then she smiled at him and stopped his heart.

Stopped it on a dime. “Emma.”

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and then obediently closed them, her face still tilted up to his in a trusting manner that reminded him that this was about far more than hormones and lust. “You are so damn beautiful,” he murmured, taking in her creamy skin, her mouth, including that full bottom lip he wanted to nibble on for his next meal. “What comes next?”

“Be patient.”

“Yeah.” Leaning in, he kissed her temple, her jaw. Brushing the tip of his nose along her cheek, he kissed the sweet spot beneath her ear, and absorbing her shiver, gently sank his teeth into her earlobe.

She drew in a quick breath, and shivered again as her fingers closed around his biceps. “Stone…”

Cupping her face, he kissed her. Kissed her until he couldn’t have come up with his own name if his life depended on it.

She opened her sleep, sexy eyes. “Go with my instincts,” she whispered.

It took him a moment to realize she was quoting the third rule. “Yeah.” His voice was husky and a little thick. He didn’t know exactly what her instincts would be, but he sincerely hoped it didn’t include pulling her clothes back on.

She surprised and shocked him by pulling him down on top of her, rolling so that he was lying flat on his back on the rock and she was straddling him. Wrapping her fingers around him she lifted her hips. Then, slowly—so slowly she almost killed him—she sank over the top of him, threatening to blow his mind and his wad as he entered her, and he gripped her hips in desperation when she rocked against him. “Wait,” he gasped. God. “Don’t move.” He was a fraction of a second from coming. “Christ, Em, don’t move or I’ll—”