Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(30)

This is not right.

“You intend on stripping soon, right?” I ask. “Because my nakedness is lonely and would like some company.”

“If you want me naked, then by all means. . . .” He pulls us both up to standing. “Go right ahead and make it happen.”

He holds me tight for a moment while the strength returns to my legs, then lets me go and stands back. I can feel his hot-blooded stare all over me as I bend down to remove his shoes and socks. When they’re off, I stand and look him in the eyes.

“Your shirt,” I say. “Off. Now.”

He suppresses a smile, then reaches over his shoulder to pull off his T-shirt. “Have I told you how hot it is when you boss me around?”

“Not half as hot as when you do it to me.” My voice wavers as I take in his beautiful body. Broad shoulders. Wide, hard pecs. Ridiculously defined abs that lead down to crazy-sexy hip muscles and a smattering of light hair.

He drops the shirt on the floor. “You like it when I tell you what to do?” I swallow my excess saliva and nod. “In that case, get on your knees, Miss Holt.”

The air of dominance in his voice sends a shiver up my spine. I’ve never had a man be so commanding in the bedroom. I like it.

I keep eye contact as I drop to my knees. From this angle, he looks even more magnificent. Smooth, lightly tanned skin. Rippling muscles. An expression that screams of being so turned on, it hurts.

“Unbuckle my belt.” His voice has dropped to a dark whisper. My hands tremble as I grab the belt and release it. “Now, the jeans.” I pop the button and pull down the zipper, then breathe shallowly and stare at the waistband of his boxer briefs as I wait for his next order.

He grips my chin and urges me to look up at him. “Whatever you want to do to me, I’m going to enjoy. Trust me on that.”

I smile. “I know. I was just waiting for permission to blow your mind.”

At that, he clenches his jaw, and the fingers holding my face tighten a little before releasing. “Do it.”

I hold his gaze for a second longer before moving my attention lower. With restrained impatience, I work his jeans and underwear down and off, and then there he is in all his glory.

Good Lord. That’s . . . well, that’s a whole lot of man.

I try to keep my breathing steady as I take in his impressive erection, jutting stiff and proud from his body.

I touch him, gently at first, getting to know the size and weight of him. He takes a ragged breath as he winds his fingers through my hair and pulls it away from my face.

“Fuck. Liss.” His voice cracks, and I move with more confidence. Well, as much confidence as is possible when one is faced with something of this size. None of my previous lovers was this big. Just more proof I’ve been sleeping with boys up until now, and that Liam is a full-edged man.

When I put my mouth on him, he groans, loud and long. I glance up to see his head thrown back, eyes closed. His fingers clench and release sporadically in my hair, and it only spurs me on to please him further. I continue kissing and sucking, and take special note of what I’m doing whenever I make him curse or grunt. When I start using my hand in tandem with my mouth, he lets out a low growl before he steps back and pulls me to my feet.

“Fuck, woman.” He picks me up and all but throws me onto the mattress, then climbs over and kneels between my legs. I have a moment to appreciate how supremely sexy he is as he reaches into the nightstand, tears open a condom package, and rolls it on with sure fingers. When he’s done, he looks down at me.

“You are . . .” He shakes his head. “I’ve never ached for a woman as much as I ache for you.” He settles between my legs and braces on one arm. “I feel like I can’t get enough of you, no matter how hard I try.”

He drops his pelvis down and then kisses me. I wrap around him, and kiss him back. I know exactly what he means. It’s like feeding my hunger for him just makes me more insatiable.

I close my eyes as he uses his mouth all over my chest, and when his hips push forward, the pressure of him makes me gasp.

Oh, God.

He kisses me and moans at the same time, all the while moving forward, then back. Small movements that bring him a little deeper each time.

Sweet mother, the feel of him. I’m not a big woman, but he’s a big man, in every sense of the word. I suddenly experience a real concern about our size difference.

“Relax,” he says between kisses, picking up on my tension. “There’s nothing to worry about. It will feel good soon, I promise.”

He keeps kissing and touching, trying to soothe me as he pushes and retreats. I breathe through the pressure and run my hands over all of him. His amazing back. His magnificent chest. His abs that tremble with every deepening thrust.

“You feel so . . .” He groans into my neck. “God . . . Liss.”

As his thrusts become more confident, I realize he was right: He fills me so completely, it feels amazing. He slides one hand beneath my butt and lifts my pelvis, and . . . Sweet Jesus!

I grip his shoulders and moan. He’s hitting a place inside me I never knew existed. Every time he thrusts, I gasp, and each subsequent gasp gets louder and more desperate.

“There?” he asks, panting as he watches my face.

“God, yes. Right there. Don’t stop. Please . . .”

He thrusts harder. I can’t even cope with how good it feels.