ruined her shirt, and her family didn’t have a lot of money.
But when she looked up at him, there was no judgment in her eyes, just raw need.
He’d buy her a new shirt—he’d buy her anything she wanted, if she’d let him. Heaven knew he could afford it. Right now, though, the last thing he wanted was for her to start thinking about the differences between their lives—the one point of contention between them.
Right now he didn’t want her thinking of anything. He just wanted her to feel.
“Hold still.” He whispered the words into her ear, savored the resultant shiver. She was nervous, and he didn’t mind that.
By the time they were done, she’d be too lost in sensation to worry about anything.
He palmed her breasts, running his thumbs roughly over her distended nipples. She rarely wore a bra. She claimed that her breasts were too small to need the support. He didn’t care what size they were, because to him they were just perfect.
And the lack of bra gave him easier access to heaven. Who would complain about that?
Her breath hitched when his fingers worked at the button of her low-slung jeans. The denim was worn, the fastening giving way easily. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he worked the garment down her slim hips until it fell to the floor. She was left in nothing but a pair of flimsy blue cotton briefs, hardly a barrier to the sweet heat between her legs.
“Lie down on the bed.” She did as he told her, scooting back until her head was cushioned on the pillows of his bed. Her slim, pale figure stood out in stark contrast to the deep sapphire-blue of his linen duvet, and he knew that he’d never look at his bed the same way again.
He watched as she propped herself up on her elbows, her avid stare fixed on him. Her lips, swollen from his kisses, parted unconsciously as he undid the buttons on his expensive dress shirt, leaving it hanging open as he pulled his leather belt from his jeans. He was so hard that it was nearly painful, and yet he savored the bite of discomfort before popping the button and allowing the heavy length of his cock to breathe, his swollen length clearly outlined against his underwear.
“Oh.” On the bed, Jo’s entire body flushed. She ran her tongue over her lips, and he barely suppressed a groan as he imagined those lips swallowing him deep.
“You’ve felt me before.” He’d stuck to his rule, no sex until she was eighteen, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t touched. But this was the first time she’d seen him naked, and he felt a strange surge of pride at her hungry gaze.
He wasn’t a virgin, but nothing turned him on like knowing that she’d chosen him to introduce her to this kind of pleasure. It was a heavy responsibility, but he knew he was up to the task.
“I know,” she whispered, her words rasping against the still air of his room. “But I’ve never really thought about...you know...how it’s going to fit.”
Theo closed his eyes, his head falling back. What had he done in his life to deserve her?
He hadn’t done anything, but he wasn’t that noble.
“It’ll fit,” he promised, shoving his jeans down his hips. He stepped out when they fell to the floor, then rubbed a hand over his erection, which tented the front of his black briefs.
Jo groaned, shifting restlessly on the bed. The sight of her arousal dampening the tender skin of her inner thighs was nearly his undoing.
Quickly, he shed his shirt, then let his briefs fall to the floor. He stood before her naked, and though he wanted to pounce on her and bury his face between her thighs, he forced himself to hold still, letting her look her fill.
He knew what she saw when those inquisitive gray eyes looked him over. He was tall, a good half a foot taller than her five foot six. He was also more than a little vain, and he started every day in the gym on the third floor of the house he shared with his father. He may not have had the drive for school or business that his dad had hoped to see in his offspring, but he never missed a session with his weights.
Because of that, his body was chiseled and solid as a rock, and he’d shared that body with more than a few girls before he’d finally convinced Jo to date him. He knew that girls liked his abs, his cock, and even the fact that his skin was dark gold and his hair nearly black, his coloring thanks to the Brazilian mother who had died when he was a baby.
Yeah, he knew he was a good-looking guy. And that plus his family money meant that he’d never been hard up for someone to warm his bed.
But he’d never, ever wanted anything more than what he had right now—Jo Marchande in his bed, wanting him.
He had to make this good.
“Spread your legs.” He clasped her ankles in long fingers, rubbing his thumb over the tender skin at the inside of each. She shuddered, then gasped when he tugged, pulling her to the edge of the bed. Kneeling on the plush carpet that covered his bedroom floor, he hooked her legs over each of his shoulders, opening her wide. Exposing that part of her that he craved.
“Theo... I’ve never...” Jo squirmed, her heels digging into his back. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything except take what I give you.” Beneath his avid stare, the thin cotton of those panties grew wet. He traced it with a finger, circling the hard bud of her clit, and she shuddered in response.
He pressed his lips to the supple skin on the inside of her thigh, just above the curve of her knee. Her quick exhale told him that she was trying desperately to hold her breath. That she was nervous.
Knowing that the nerves would only help to heighten her pleasure, he slid his lips up only the barest inch, determined to draw out the sensations for her. She shifted, and he could feel her heat, smell her arousal.
Trailing his lips farther up her thigh, he teased them both by trailing his tongue over the crease that divided her leg from her abdomen. She jerked beneath his mouth with a breathless laugh.
“Liked that, did you?” He repeated the motion, and she groaned. He slid his mouth up even more, closer to his goal, savoring the salt on her skin.
“Theo,” she breathed as he brushed his lips over the soaked fabric of her panties. “Oh God. I can’t—”
“Oh yes, you can.” He flicked his tongue over the cotton, and her hips lifted off the bed.
“I’ve waited so long for this.” Nuzzling his nose against her heat, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her simple underwear. Not wanting to take the time to pull them all the way off, he pulled hard and grinned when they ripped, allowing him to toss them aside.
She didn’t give him hell for destroying a second item of her clothing, just rocked from side to side on the cool sheets of his bed. He took a moment to simply look at the glistening pink of her center, hot and wet and all for him.
Jo groaned. This was the only time she got quiet, his girl—when she was aroused. It made him want to drive her so crazy that she got loud again.
It made him want to make her scream his name.
Inhaling her scent, which reminded him of some kind of exotic cinnamon,
