queen of it here.
‘I think you’re confused about who’s going to be dominant.’ His hands tightened again, drawing her closer still. ‘I’ll be in control, Sophy—you don’t want to be.’
That was exactly it. She didn’t want to be in control any more. She just wanted to feel. Not think. Just experience it, release the tension from her system. ‘Okay.’
His expression flared. His hands moved, looping round her back, imprisoning her. ‘So what did you have in mind?’
‘What about my office?’
‘Now?’ He laughed freely. ‘A late afternoon lay? Just before you leave?’
‘It has a certain appeal.’ Her eyelids were heavy, her cheeks flushed. She’d wanted him for days, of course she wanted him now.
‘Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?’ His voice dropped to a carnal whisper, but his eyes were like polished stones. ‘We’ve barely kissed. We might not be that good.’
Barely kissed? Oh, he was full of it. Her lips curved into a lush, lazy smile. ‘You don’t believe that. Besides…’ she skated the tips of her fingers over his jaw, shivering with the pleasure of being able to touch ‘…you do everything to a brilliant standard.’
‘So do you.’
Not quite true, but she was happy to skip it. ‘Then we’ll be brilliant together, won’t we?’ She was wholly leaning against him now, feeling the heat of him through her linen shirt. ‘Let’s try it out.’
‘Oh, Sophy,’ he muttered, his face even more angular. ‘You’d better know what you’re doing.’
In answer she lifted her face, inviting it all.
In a fast movement he caught her mouth with his. It wasn’t anything like the gentle kiss of the day before. This was brazenly sexual—branding her with its heat. She gasped, held back for a scrap of a second beneath the bruising, blazing invasion. Then threw herself headlong into the eye of the storm, locking her hands behind his neck, letting her breasts press against him. His hands pushed her tighter against his hardness. And he was hard all over.
His heated skin melted her. His tongue swept between her lips, she parted to let him in as deep as he wanted. Twirled her tongue around his and felt his grip tighten even harder on her.
Yes.
Her neck muscles strained as she pushed up into his kiss, not wanting the searing assault to ease even a smidge. She rocked her hips. Rising onto tiptoe to feel that bulging ridge nearer to where she really wanted it, rubbed closer again, desperate to relieve the agony that now flared deep within. She felt rather than heard his grunt. His hand cupped her butt, fingers firm on her flesh, holding her as he rocked back against her—his thrusting slow, devastating, while his mouth was still sealed to hers. His tongue teased into her the way she really wanted that other part of him to. Her moan reverberated between them then. Oh, yes. That was what she wanted. All the strength of him ripping into her.
His kiss altered, breaking but quickly returning. Nipping at her mouth he pushed her harder against his straining erection. She shifted her feet to part her legs that fraction more, rotating the half centimetre she could against him, torturing them both. She cursed the clothes that were scrunching between them. He bent her back to force her body closer still, until all she could do was cling to his shoulders and accept his demands. She didn’t want to stand any more anyway. She wanted to lie down. She wanted him to pin her with his weight and pound into her. Fast, hard, now.
All her desire unleashed with just the one kiss.
He took the weight of one breast in his hand and her body buckled with the sensation. ‘Yes.’ Her high cry, half whispered.
So there was such a thing as pure, carnal lust. An attraction to a body, where nothing else mattered but touching it, feeling it and making its beauty come alive. There could be a free, physical joy. She’d been missing out for years—had always taken everything too seriously, been too cautious. She swept her hand hard across his shoulder, up his neck and into his hair, clutching to his deliciously dangerous heat. It was time to play catch-up.
Lorenzo fought hard with his raging lust, and hers, easing them out of the kiss, forcing his hands to slow and then to stop their exploration of her skin. It hurt.
He lifted his mouth a millimetre away from hers. Saw that passion had made her blue eyes glow more vividly than ever before. He couldn’t resist another brushing kiss, nor could he resist the way her nipple was pressing into his palm. His fingers mirrored the action of his mouth—brushing the sensitive nub just as his lips did hers.
Very, very lightly.
Her shudder nearly had him on his knees. He’d wanted to test her—to see if she really meant it. So he’d kissed her hard. No gentle beginning, no tenderness, just the brunt of his raw, blistering passion.
And she’d met him, matched him. Almost beaten him.
Now he wanted to strip her, to kiss her, to make the whole of her wet with want. He wanted her drenched with desire—and him too—for their bodies to slide together, fighting for that furious, physical release. He hadn’t wanted sex so badly in ages.
Instead he pushed away, made himself take a whole step. Forced his feet to move another. ‘I’m not going to take you now,’ he said breathlessly. Telling himself as much as her. ‘Not like this.’
‘Why not?’ She didn’t seem to realise the extent to which she was giving herself away.
His body tightened, the animal part of him so keen to take up her unguarded offer. To topple her here and now and be done with it. But he couldn’t. She needed some breathing space to be sure. He needed her to be sure. The lust was hot enough to make them both brainless. Do something she yet might regret. Lorenzo couldn’t bear those regrets—not his, not hers either.
Stupid. Since when did he care? Since when did he let any kind of second thoughts stop him from having a good time?
Because she’d told him—she didn’t usually do this. He’d known that already but having her actually say it made it worse. She needed to be certain. He didn’t want any uncomfortable ramifications. ‘Are you sure you can handle it?’
She turned away. He saw the chill descend, the stiffening in her shoulders. ‘Don’t treat me like an idiot. Of course I can. We’re only talking one night, Lorenzo.’
He ruffled his hair, needing to get his conflicting emotions under control. Hell, it was one p.m. and he was this close to having her in a quickie session at the back of the warehouse. He wanted more than a quickie. He wanted a bed. He wanted the whole night.
One night—her suggestion.
His body chafed—eager to take the offer up now. But no way was he taking her upstairs to his apartment. Inviting her in there might lead to mixed messages. He’d have to take her out. Damn, a date meant more too—or might to her. He shook his head, could she really keep it uncomplicated? But he wanted it too much to say no. The burning need forced him to take the risk. ‘I’ll take you out tonight.’
‘That’s not necessary.’
Oh, she was cool, wasn’t she? His edgy feeling sharpened. Had he underestimated her entirely? ‘You don’t want to go out?’
She looked evasive. ‘You could come over to my place.’
It was probably a good idea. He didn’t like that it had come from her, but she was right. Better not for them to go out together—looking like lovers, feeling like lovers. But ironically nor did he want some sordid assignation. Just for him to knock on the door and her let him in—literally. The warring feelings frustrated him. ‘For dinner?’
‘If you like,’ she answered carelessly, giving him an address, a time.
He stared at her as she spoke, tried to figure out what the hell she was