her on all fronts she could barely get the pathetically weak protest out.
‘Life is too short for shouldn’t...’
‘That’s easy for you to say.’
You’re experienced. You haven’t spent your life welding sex to love and waiting for them to come along at the same time. You’re relaxed and carefree about this sort of thing. Not like me.
And yet for all that she couldn’t have shifted out of his reach if she’d tried.
‘You’ve done nothing but fight me,’ he moaned softly. ‘Now I want you to tell me that you need this as much as I do...’
‘I...’
‘Say it, Alexa...’
‘I want this so much,’ she confessed shakily, thrilled at the hot urgency in his voice.
‘Good.’ His voice was thick with satisfaction.
He lowered his head, angling her body so that he could lick and kiss her neck, her shoulders. He nearly lost it completely when he felt the hitch in her breathing as he trailed kisses over her breasts, until finally he clamped his mouth over the big, pink circular disc of her nipple.
Her whole body tensed, and then relaxed into the caress. He was dimly aware of the fluttering of her fingers in his hair as he continued to draw the stiffened bud of her throbbing nipple deep into his mouth, nipping and suckling on it. He was a big man, with big hands, and the abundance of her breasts was a good fit as he cupped her other breast and massaged it.
‘Touch me,’ he commanded roughly, pulling her hand down and clasping it hard over his erection. ‘Just hold me. Tight, for God’s sake. I don’t want to spoil the party prematurely...’
He reared up as she obeyed and took a few deep breaths, fighting to recover some of his lost self-control. When his breathing finally levelled out he resumed where he had left off, this time devoting his attention to her other breast, but not until he had looked at her nakedness, feasting his eyes on the paleness of her skin and the contrasting rosy flush of her nipples.
Alexa gazed up at him through half-closed eyes. He had rid himself of his boxers and his erection was a thick, hard, pulsing rod of steel. There wasn’t a shred of self-consciousness in him as he watched her gazing at him. She was scared, thrilled, massively turned on...all at the same time.
‘Would you like to sample the fare...?’ He asked, and when she frowned in bewilderment he grinned. ‘Taste with your mouth what you’re busy tasting with your eyes...?’
He couldn’t understand her... She was enthusiastic, turned on, and yet curiously shy and hesitant. But, then again, the women he slept with were all so experienced that perhaps he had forgotten what it was like to be with one who didn’t see sex as an exercise in impressing him with gymnastics. He liked it. He knew that.
‘I... I’m not... I don’t... This is all so far out of my comfort zone...’
‘Then I’ll let you set the pace...’
He was moved by the nervousness in her voice. She wanted him, but she wasn’t going to jump on him, and he got that. She needed to be treated like a delicate piece of porcelain china. He needed to let her have control. And that turned him on.
She covered him with tentative little kisses. She clearly liked him to touch her breasts and he did. But he wanted her to hold his erection, and after a while, after she had trailed delicate little kisses over his stomach—kisses that were driving him mad, had she but known it—she garnered the courage to take those delicate little kisses lower down.
She whimpered softly, and those little whimpers were a turn-on beyond belief. To a man with a fairly jaded palette when it came to the opposite sex and their bedroom antics, this was uniquely refreshing. She was shy. He wanted her to feel comfortable with his body, comfortable to touch him wherever she wanted, but the way she took her time...agony. He could barely breathe.
To Alexa, witnessing this big, utterly confident and controlled man lose it a little was as heady as a dose of adrenaline shot straight into her system.
Her faltering self-confidence strengthened into a growing sense of liberation. A guy who was restless and impatient, who took what he wanted whatever the cost—a guy for whom tomorrow was not a word in his vocabulary if it could be replaced by today—was letting her take charge, and that felt so good to her.
She straightened and looked down at him. She’d never been naked in front of a man in her life before, and her skin tingled and burned as he gazed at her with open, unashamed desire.
When he reached forward to graze his thumbs across her stiff nipples she moaned softly and closed her eyes. Her whole body was trembling.
She wanted more than this. She wanted him inside her, moving inside her, filling her up...
She guided his hand between her legs and even as she did so was shocked at her forwardness. When he began massaging her there she covered his hand with hers, groaned as he slid two fingers inside, unerringly finding her clitoris and sending her into spiralling, ever-increasing zones of sexual pleasure.
She felt like a rag doll. As her pleasure grew...and grew...and grew...she opened dazed eyes and levelled them at him.
‘I want more, Theo.’ She barely recognised her own voice, which was husky with desire.
‘And so do I... You have no idea... But...’ He reached for his wallet on the dressing table to extract a condom. ‘Life right now,’ he murmured, catching her heated gaze and holding it, ‘is complicated enough without adding to it...’
HE DROPPED THE condom on the side table and settled over her, grazing between her legs with his erection, nudging, but not too much. And then he slid his hands under her back, arching her up towards him. Nerves mingled with wicked anticipation, and anticipation won.
She had disposed of her nightie—flung it over the side of the bed. She knew that she should be feeling timid, quailing at his frank inspection of her body, but there was open heat in his lazy gaze. No mistaking the fact that he was hot for her. She didn’t think that his heat could match her own.
‘I’m fat...’ she confessed, burning up like straw flung to a struck match.
‘Whoever told you that? Surely not your parents...?’
He didn’t normally do pillow talk, but the openness of her admission touched him. He lay down next to her and pulled her against him. He could feel the steady beating of her heart and the squash of her breasts against his chest.
A slight delay to proceedings. There was nothing uncool about that. In fact it made sense, gave his body time to adjust to its normal tempo.
‘Gosh, no.’
This intimacy felt good. Not so much sex for the sake of sex as two people in bed about to make love. She had a gut feeling that he wasn’t the kind of guy who slowed down to accommodate anyone, and that included the women he took to his bed. But he was slowing down for her. And whilst the logical part of her knew that it meant nothing, it still felt good.
Plus... Rushing into sex...
Yes, her body was on fire for him, but her mind was tentative, filled with her own shortcomings and what he might say about them. If he’d made some great big show of trying to get her into bed she might have stood a chance at resistance, but like this...in the dead of night...here in this bed...she was powerless to fight her body’s urgings.
Talking like this might relax her...
‘The opposite.’ She traced the outline of his shoulders, liking its tough ridges and contours. ‘My parents always told me that I was beautiful and that I could do anything I wanted.’ She laughed a little breathlessly, because confiding wasn’t something she was accustomed to doing. She marvelled that she was doing it now,