him, sliding her tongue against his, the friction igniting a wave of heat in her stomach that spread to her breasts, down to her core.
“Wow. You really are an amazing kisser,” she said, a shiver sliding down through her.
“And you are very honest.”
She shook her head. “I’m not usually. I just do my very best to seem tough all the time and no one questions what I do or say too closely. They don’t want me to kill them with snark. And that way I don’t have to be honest. But for some reason, I am honest with you. I’m not sure why.”
“You have the same effect on me,” he said. “I can’t fathom it.”
“It’s the lust thing. It’s scrambling our brains.”
A smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Is that it?”
She nodded. “I’m not familiar with it on quite this level, but I remember feeling this way in college a couple of times.”
“Yes, that sounds about right. You’d think at our age we would be impervious.” He smiled slightly and it made her knees feel a little weak.
“Hey, watch it. No age jokes.”
He kissed her again. “You are a beautiful woman. I cannot imagine you being any more attractive to me. Your dress today is lethal.”
She looked down at her demure yellow dress. “This?”
“It has buttons,” he growled. “And all I can think of is undoing all of those buttons.”
Her face heated. “Really?”
“Oh, yes, really. I want to do it now, but I don’t want to move too quickly.”
“It’s not even noon.”
“So?”
“Isn’t there a no-sex-before-noon rule?”
He laughed. “Sex isn’t like alcohol. And if that’s been your experience with it, I can tell you, you need your experience broadened.”
She swallowed. “I’m a little nervous. A lot nervous.” She wasn’t sure what he would do to her, and that fear wasn’t rooted in the fear of physical pain, but over how complete the loss of control might be. Over whether or not she would be able to hold onto her defenses.
He smoothed his thumb over her cheek. “Tell me, is there a specific act that causes worse pain?”
She nodded, finding that focusing on the physical was helpful. “Orgasm can cause pain, which … sucks.” She breathed the last word with a shaky laugh. “The worst of it always came from … penetration. In the end at least.”
He nodded slowly. “No sex. Not now. I want to take your dress off. I want to touch your breasts. Taste them, too. Nothing more. Nothing more until you’re ready.”
She could hardly breathe. His promises, so husky and sensual and perfect, had her body wound so tight she was certain she would break. “You really do have a way with words.”
“Funny you should say that. My speechwriters usually handle my words. I pride myself on being a man of action. What are words if you can’t back them up?” He slid his hands down to the first button on her dress and slowly slid the little fabric-covered bead through the hole, letting the neck of the dress gap.
She wished she could capture the bravado she’d felt last night. But then, last night had been her game. She’d been in control, in her element. She’d been giving pleasure and feeding off of the residual. Here and now, Stavros had command of her. A reverse on last night, and she found she actually liked it.
He moved to the next button, then the next, pressing a kiss to her neck for each button. When he reached the button just beneath her breasts, he slid his tongue along the line of her collarbone, then down a fraction. He paused at her belt, sliding it through the buckle slowly, then letting it drop. He continued down, until her dress hung open, until his tongue was curving around the line of her bra, teasing her sensitive flesh.
She shivered as he pushed the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her in her white pumps and matching bra and panties.
“You are amazing,” he said, dropping to his knees to press a kiss to her stomach. Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t want him to take her panties off, not this time. He would see her scars and she wasn’t ready. Not yet.
She tugged on his shoulders, urging him up, and he complied, his hand on her back, toying with the catch on her bra, teasing them both. He took a step, his arms wrapped around her still. She stepped backward. They made a slow, smooth dance to the bed and he undid her bra as he laid her down, pulling it off and casting it aside.
He was half over her, his breathing harsh, his eyes on her bare breasts. Thankfully, she knew they were one of her best features, so this was the easy part. It was made even easier when she caught the feral light in his dark eyes. “You are so much more beautiful than I imagined. Much more beautiful than I could have imagined. I have never seen a woman as exquisite as you.” He cupped her, slid his fingers gently over her tightened nipples.
She arched into him, pleasure making her breath catch.
“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he said. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”
She didn’t want him to stop. Not ever. She reveled in his touch, in the feel of his rough, masculine hands on her tender skin. And when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, with the slick friction of his tongue, she felt a sharp tightening in her core, waves of pleasure, of pending release, rippling through her.
She gripped his hair, arched her body. She was close. She’d never been so close, so fast. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone this badly, either.
“Oh, yes.” She sighed, letting her head fall back.
He raised his head. “More?”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip. “Yes.”
He moved his hand down her stomach and she was certain he would feel the line of scar tissue that ran just below the waistband of her underwear, but she was past caring. Past caring about anything. About the future. About possible pain. Even about the loss of control.
How could something that felt so amazing end in pain? Any kind of pain was worth it, surely.
He slipped his fingers beneath her panties, grazed the scar and continued down to where she was wet and ready for him. He teased the entrance to her body with his fingers, before sliding them over her clitoris. The sensation was like fire, burning heat from there throughout her body.
She gritted her teeth, her breath getting sharper, uneven. She curled her fingers into the sheets as he continued to touch her there. Soft, even strokes that brought her closer and closer to the edge.
He leaned in and kissed her mouth as he increased the pressure of his touch, and everything in her seemed to release at once, a flood of pleasure roaring through her, drowning out thought and sound. She cried out, not caring if she was loud, not caring that it was daylight, not caring that their relationship would only
