Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(66)

She remembered the taste of his mouth, the hardness of his body, the gentle stroking of his hands. “But I do care about sex. I wanted you. I still want you.” She dropped her guard and let him see it in her eyes. “I need you.” She needed the physical reassurance of his presence. The press of his body against her skin.

He hesitated.

“Please.” Her hand curled in his shirt. “Unless you don’t still want me.”

“Oh, I want you. You have no idea how much I want to make love to you.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “But I also want you one hundred percent on board. I don’t want our first time to be an impulsive, heat-of-the-moment act. Despite the way my body reacts to you, I’m no adolescent controlled by raging hormones. You mean more to me than a physical release. I could take care of that by myself. The whole point is that it’s you. I can wait.”

“I don’t want to wait.” If he rejected her now, she’d crawl in a hole and cry. She wouldn’t be able to trust anyone else. No one else had ever worked this hard to connect with her. No one else had ever cared enough to persist. “Besides, I’ve gotten used to having you in my bed. I sleep better when you’re there.”

“That was my devious goal: to make you dependent on me as a sleep aid.” Though his words were tinged with humor, his eyes were serious. His thumb stroked her chin. “We could just sleep.”

She captured his hand in hers, turned, and led him into the bedroom. “I need you.”

“You have to talk to me.” His eyes were determined. “There’s no getting out of it if we take this next step.”

“I will. Just not now. I’m tired of overthinking everything. I need to feel you.”

“That big brain of yours does get in the way.” His eyes darkened. “But you have to promise you won’t run away from me again. Afterward, we’re going to have that long talk. I don’t do just sex.”

“All right.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” She reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Tossing it aside, she put her hands on the firm muscles of his shoulders. Her earlier desire had been a thunderstorm, all clash and noise. This was a steady summer rain, warm and gentle, soaking into her skin like a parched summer garden. She pulled her sweater off and dropped it at her feet. Her lace bra followed.

A soft masculine sound hummed in his throat. His hands slid up her sides, stroking her rib cage, sliding around to cup her breasts. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She drew his head closer and kissed him.

“Not enough.” She backed him across the floor. When she pressed on his shoulders, he sat in the chair. His gaze was on her bare breasts as she pulled his boots off. They hit the floor with dual thunks. Standing, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid out of them. Her lace Brazilian bikini was pale blue. “Your turn.”

He was quicker, shedding his pants and socks all in a few economical motions. He wasn’t a boxer or brief man and was totally comfortable with his nudity.

“Come here.” Gentle hands urged her to him. Sitting on his lap, she pressed her body to his, skin to warm skin. His tongue was in her mouth, his hands on her back, stroking her inside and out. The erection pressed between them assured her that he still wanted her.

Brushing her hair aside, his mouth cruised down her neck, tongue and teeth and lips setting her nerves on end as they traveled down her collarbone to her breast. He drew her nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving until she was hard as a pebble. Lifting his head, he slid his hands down her sides. He traced the lace edges of her panties, fingers dipping just under the elastic over her hips. One hand slid over her buttock, caressing, squeezing her flesh through the lace.

She reached between their bodies and palmed the hard length of him. He groaned, a deep and masculine sound of approval. His hips surged upward. Hands eased inside her panties, palms cupping her bare bottom. One finger slid around to stroke her core, testing. Pleasure surged inside her. Involuntarily, her hips moved.

She ground her aching center against his hand, but it wasn’t enough contact. The heat was building. She had to quell it before the frenzied need returned. Before she lost control. “Now. Please.”

He froze. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Do you have a condom? Please say yes.” She backed away to discard her panties.

He cleared his throat. “Wallet. Back pocket.”

There were two. She tossed the spare onto the desk.

“There’s no rush.” But the cords of his neck were taut, and his erection bulged huge and hard beneath her touch.

She caught and held his gaze. “I want you now.”

Turquoise irises darkened. He took the condom. His hands weren’t entirely steady as he sheathed himself and waited for her to come to him. Her eyes raked over his lean, naked body, taking in his broad shoulders, defined abdominals, and powerful legs. He was the quintessential male, the ideal physical specimen. But ultimately, it was his kindness, his generosity, and his willingness to put his own needs aside for hers that sparked her desire. As he’d said, sex was easy to get. She’d had plenty of offers, but she wanted him.

She straddled his hips and took him into her body inch by inch. His body stiffened. His fingers dug into her hips as he allowed her to control the movement. She pressed down until he filled her completely. His hardness pressed against the soft ache inside of her. His body trembled beneath her.