Breathless (Steel Brothers Saga #10)(47)

But I’d tease the hell out of him in the process.

I shook my head, letting my hair tumble farther. Then I bent over, giving him a bird’s-eye view of my ass while I untied my sneakers. Slowly.

His low groan was my reward.

Damn. If he reacted this way to me taking off my shoes…

I kicked the shoes across the floor and then removed my socks just as slowly.

“Fuck,” he said gruffly. “Even your feet are perfect.”

I’d always hated my feet. My second toe was slightly longer than my first, and because I was so tall, I wore a massive size-ten shoe. But the nails were painted fire-engine red, and regular pedis kept them soft and silky. I smiled.

His compliment made me feel good.

I continued to torture him slowly. I eased the lacy tank top over my belly, pausing for a moment before pulling it over my chest. Another few seconds passed, and it lay on the floor near my socks. I wore a pale-pink bra, no padding. I wasn’t nearly as well-endowed as Jade, but I held my own. My nipples ached, their hardness pushing against the pink lace.

“You’re killing me.” Bryce closed his eyes and inhaled.

I smiled. “You told me to undress. Just following orders, babe.”

“Damn.” He opened his eyes. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? What you do to a man? What you do to me?”

I inched forward slowly and boldly cupped the bulge behind his jeans. “I have a little idea.”

“Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I certainly hope so,” I teased.

I moved backward again and removed my bra. He sucked in a breath as my breasts fell softly against my chest. I cupped them, sliding my thumbs over my hard nipples. Prickles shot to my pussy still covered by jeans and panties.

“Fuck,” he said again.

I did a quick shimmy, showing off my boobs, and then I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans. I wore skinny jeans because they accented my long and lean legs, but getting them off in a sexy manner wasn’t really possible. I did the best I could, inching them down as if I were removing stockings and then pulling them off my feet. I stood nearly naked then, wearing only pale-pink cotton undies. I hated thongs. They were uncomfortable as hell.

“Baby, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Two points for cotton, then. Thongs? Who needed them?

I was so turned on, so wet. I eased the pink panties over my hips until they landed in a puddle around my feet. I stepped out of them. Then I sat down on the bed, spreading my legs slightly.

“Your turn,” I teased.

But Bryce had other ideas. He lunged toward me, fell to his knees, and spread my legs. “Need to taste you. Now.” He clamped his gorgeous lips around my swollen clit.

I gasped, nearly jumping into climax at the mere contact. He released my clit, thank the universe, and then tongued the inside of me, sucking on my labia—felt so good—and then pushing my thighs upward a bit to slide his tongue over my asshole.

I sucked in another breath. Hadn’t been expecting that, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t have a chance to give it any more thought because he went back to work on my pussy. The sweet slide of lips made me shiver and tingle, and when he glided his soft tongue over my hard clit again, I couldn’t hold back.

“Bryce! I’m coming!”

His groan vibrated against me, adding to the already spectacular sensations. The climax penetrated every part of me. Every pore, every cell, every tiny molecule within me burst into flames.

“You taste so sweet, baby. So sweet.” He thrust a finger inside me. “God, so tight too.”

The penetration forced my climax into another dimension. Shapes and colors swirled in my mind, bright pink and neon blue. I grabbed Bryce’s head, threading my fingers through his silky hair, and I ground against him, forcing his lips to suck my clit harder, his finger to thrust deeper.

My climax continued, and with every pulse of my pussy, my body burned hotter.

When I finally began to calm, he removed his finger and rose, still on his knees, facing me. “I plan to taste every inch of you, Marjorie Steel. Every last inch.” He pressed his lips to mine.

I opened to his kiss, tasting the tang of my own body mingled with his woodsy peppermint flavor. My nipples ached, and I clung to him, rubbing them against the texture of his shirt, savoring the sweet passion of our kiss. When he pulled away to inhale, I trailed my lips over his cheek, letting his stubble scrape my sensitive skin. He moved to my neck, kissing and sucking, and then, finally, he cupped my swollen breasts, lowered his head, and took a nipple into his mouth.

At first he merely slid his lips over it, softly sucking, and the need for more drove me slowly insane. I arched my back, trying to push it farther into his mouth.

“So soft,” he said against my skin. “Like velvet.”

They were hardly soft at the moment. I smiled, though. He was speaking of the texture of my skin, my flesh. All those years of moisturizing in the dry heat of Colorado summers had been well worth it.

He slid his tongue around my puckered areola, and without thinking, I grabbed his hand and led it to my other nipple.

He smiled against the swell of my breast and then clamped his lips around my nipple and sucked.

I drew in a harsh breath. The lightning bolt spread through me, recharging me, and soon I was geared up for another orgasm simply from him tugging on my flesh.