I Love How You Love Me (The Sullivans #13)(47)

He didn’t give her any warning as he lowered his mouth to one breast. Her eyes flew open and her hands clutched the back of his head as if to keep him right where he was until she was ready to let him go. But she needn’t have worried about him going anywhere, not when he could easily have spent the rest of the night worshipping her breasts.

He swirled his tongue over the tight bud of rose-colored skin and groaned his pleasure when he moved to lave her other nipple the same way. But it wasn’t enough to go from one to the other—he needed to have more, to taste as much of her as he could have at the same time. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he pressed them together so that every kiss, every scrape of his teeth across her nipples, came right on the heels of the one before it.

They were still standing, but as he took her closer and closer to release with nothing more than his hands and mouth on her breasts, he could feel her grow less steady in her sexy high-heeled sandals. Intending to carry her over to the couch, Dylan swept her up into his arms, but she felt so good there that he couldn’t bear to move just yet. Her lower lip was slightly swollen from where she must have been biting it when he’d been teasing her breasts, and her mouth drew his like the strongest magnet ever made.

When her hands wound around his neck while he kissed her, it meant everything to him that she was trusting him to make love with her tonight. Especially when he knew it was so much more than she’d ever intended to trust him, or anyone else, with.

A part of him wanted to kiss her until sunrise, to just keep teasing and taunting and tasting her perfect lips for hours. But he’d waited too long for this night—a week that had felt more like a lifetime—to rein in the need to get her completely naked and feast on the rest of her skin the way he was devouring her mouth. Without breaking their kiss, he carried her over to the couch, and when he laid her down on it, he went to his knees in front of her.

Looking at her lying on the couch—her full breasts bare, the skirt of her dress hiked up to mid-thigh, her hair across the pillows tangled from his hands, her mouth and skin flushed from his kisses—Dylan’s heart nearly stopped in his chest.

“I could stare at you all night and never quite believe you’re real.” He whispered the words with more reverence than he’d ever felt for anything, even the ocean lit up beneath a full moon.

“I feel the same way—as though I might wake up soon and realize that it was all just a dream.” She pressed her mouth to his, soft and sweet, before whispering, “It isn’t, is it?”

“God, no.” And as he took their kiss deeper again, he had to fill his hands with her, one sliding up the silky skin on the inside of her thigh, the other cupping her breast and teasing her nipple until she was arching against him.

It nearly killed him to lift his mouth and hands from her, but her dress was tangling on his fingers. “I need you naked. Now.”

When he reached for the zipper at the side of her dress and began to pull it down, he knew the sound would be forever connected in his brain with sex. The hottest sex of his life. Grace lifted her hips so that he could pull her dress down, and soon she was left wearing only sexy panties that matched the bra he’d already stripped away. Slowly, so slowly that he knew it just might do them both in, he slid the sheer panties off her hips and down her beautiful legs. Her breath came in hard pants as he moved his hands back up her legs, from calves to knees and then thighs before he finally—finally!—cupped hot, wet flesh.

She moaned as she shifted her hips up higher into his hand, and Dylan could feel how close to the edge he was. Too close. So close that he was afraid he might not be able to form a coherent thought soon. Before that happened, she had to know, “If you need me to slow down, if you feel like we’re pushing too far, too fast, if you need me to stop, I will. No matter what.”

“I know you will. That’s why I don’t want you to hold anything back from me. Not tonight. Don’t hold back, Dylan.”

With her words—Don’t hold back, Dylan—playing over and over inside his head, he put his hands on her legs and dragged her hips to the edge of the couch so that her sex was just inches from his hungry mouth, with only her super-sexy golden heels still on.

“I can’t hold back,” he told her, every word raw, desperate, and totally honest. “Not with you.”

God, she was sweet. And so damned addictive that as he tasted and teased the slick skin between her legs, though she definitely wasn’t trying to get away, he gripped her hips tightly to hold her right where he wanted her. From the way her eyes darkened and her skin flushed even further, he knew she liked the slightly rough play of his hands over her soft curves.

Because for all her professed early nerves, Grace had always been one hundred percent sensual woman in his arms. And the way she gave herself over to pleasure as he slid one finger into her, then another, all while flicking the center of her arousal with his tongue? It only confirmed yet again that they were not only meant for each other, but also that her innate sensual hungers matched his perfectly.

One wicked image after another flew through his brain. Binding her wrists and ankles with silk ties to drive her to the edge again and again until neither one could take it anymore. Having her wait for him on her hands and knees for just long enough that she thought she might go crazy waiting even another second, then driving into her so that she came the moment he took her. Taking her out onto his boat, both of them naked as they dove into the water and then wrapping her all around him as she held on to the ship’s ladder and he drove up into her.