Naked Pursuit. Jill Monroe
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“The bra’s going to be a problem,” she warned.
“I have a pocketknife in my jeans.”
“Do it.” He dug in his pants until he pulled out a small, yet serviceable knife. She hissed in a breath when his fingers grazed along the sensitive skin of her shoulder. Who knew her skin was so susceptible to touch? No, this man’s touch.
He lifted the strap and slid the blade underneath.
“Wait.”
He instantly stopped. Did he think she was having second thoughts? Now?
Ha—as if she would ask him to leave her bra right where it was. “Cut in the middle of the strap. That way I can tie it in the morning.”
With a few efficient moves he freed her bra from the chain between them. She tossed the bra aside and watched as it landed on the dresser in the bedroom.
“Hold out your hand, and I’ll cut off the band they put on us at the testing center.”
He did so and she returned the favor. Then she focused all of her attention back on the sexy hot man in front of her.
Owen pulled her into his arms. “I believe you were licking my ear and talking dirty.”
“Pretty talented, aren’t I? I can lick and talk at the same time,” she teased. He was about to reply, but she silenced him when she traced her tongue along his ear and sucked the lobe into her mouth. “Does this give you any ideas?” she asked after a moment.
He nodded. “Too many good ones.” His free hand caressed and stroked her breast, then moved lower. Butterflies flapped to attention inside her stomach as his fingers rubbed the bare skin above her leggings. He dipped his hand between her legs, stroking and teasing her through her underwear until her legs grew weak.
“Owen, you have to slow down,” she moaned into his neck.
Stroke.
Her clit grew heavy and tingly. “This feels too good.”
“Nothing can feel too good,” he told her, nibbling at the tender skin above her collarbone.
Stroke.
Her inner muscles began to clamp deliciously.
“Owen, I’m going to come too soon.”
Strooookkkke.
“Then you can come again,” he said, his voice tight.
But Stella also had a free hand, and she could play the tormenting game, too. She trailed her fingers down the hard ridge of muscle lining his spine, then smoothed her palms along the ridged rows of muscle on his stomach until she found the waistband of his jeans. His cock was a long ridge beneath the zipper and she quickly freed him. He sprang into her hand. Smooth and hard. She circled the head of his cock with her thumb. She’d meant only to torment him the way he was tormenting her, but feeling the evidence of his desire for her made Stella want him to plunge inside her. Fill her. Thrust until they both came.
“I don’t want to wait, Owen.”
“Yeah. No, I—”
She cut off his words by dragging him to the large bay window in the bedroom. Below, a large, beautiful courtyard with lights in the trees and a meandering path through flowers beckoned lovers for a late-night stroll. But not these lovers. No, Stella wanted only to be alone with this man in the bedroom of this amazing suite.
With a press of her finger, a filmy curtain drifted down. The street lights faded but the glow of the Dallas skyline still filtered through. Stella dropped to the curved bench beneath the window, the diamond-tufted cushion soft beneath her back.
“Here,” she urged. “Make love to me here.”
Owen’s eyes flared, but she couldn’t read his expression in the now darkened room.
He reached for the band of her leggings at her waist. He groaned as he slid her pants down her legs. “Those are the sexiest damn panties I’ve ever seen.”
She was kind of partial to the black scalloped lace herself. Stella wore nothing but scrubs all day, every day, so she needed the feel of silk and lace on her skin. Actually, right now she needed the feel of this man’s hands back on her skin. She lifted her hips to help him draw her panties down.
“Just like that,” he said, and his finger brushed along the curls between her legs.
“Hmm?”
“When I’m inside you, I want you to meet me just like this.”
Could she come because of a man’s words? But the thought fled from her mind quickly, replaced by the all-consuming images of his hard length deep inside her, stroking her as she raised her hips to meet his every thrust.
Owen reached for one of the wrapped condoms.
“Here, let me.” She tore the top of the package off, then grasped his cock, caressing him softly. She watched his face in the dim light as she touched him. His eyes were closed, his jaw tight with need. He stroked her with the barest of touches as she slid the condom in place. Slowly.
“Now that’s how to put on a condom,” he told her with a half groan.
Stella laughed, feeling carefree and sexy and so, so needy.
His free hand clasped her chin. He caressed her cheek with his thumb.
“You ready?” he asked.
So ready.
Stella nodded and he stepped between her legs, grabbed her by the hips and pulled her ass to the end of the cushioned bench seat. He teased her clit with the pad his thumb. “You’re so wet.”
She shivered at his touch, and then he slipped his finger inside her at an agonizingly slow pace. Stella sucked in a breath as delicious tingles bombarded her body. But as desperate as she was to have him buried deep inside her so she could lose herself in the powerful wave of sex, it had been a long time for her. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since she’d started med school, and...wow, had it really been over two years? She began to count in her—
The head of his penis replaced his gently exploring finger, and all thoughts of math and time and calendars fled. Now she was all about sensation.
With a shift of his hips, Owen slid inside her with a slow and steady thrust. Her inner muscles instantly clamped along his length and she held her breath.
“You with me, Stella?” he asked, his deep voice strained. “You’re so tight. You feel amazing.”
She lifted her eyes to his face, and while it was too dark to read his expression, Stella felt the tension emanating from his body. Oh, she was with him. Stella nodded.
But still he didn’t move. Sweat broke out along his brow, proof of his effort to hold back so he wouldn’t hurt her.
“I’m with you, Owen. I want you so bad.”