“I know what I said.” Her dark, sultry eyes held his, while she tentatively lowered her hand to touch his chest. “But you’ve changed my mind for me. I’ve been wanting to touch you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” She drew circles in his chest hair with her fingers, lingering over his nipples and then trailing down to his waist.
Every nerve in his body was alive with feeling. He moved his hand to her cheek, drew aside a soft curl and tucked it behind her ear. But then that wayward hand refused to turn away from the softness of her skin, the line of her jaw.
He didn’t know what had prompted her sudden change of heart about them, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.
He let his fingers linger on the velvet of her skin for a moment more, then let them skip lightly down her neck and farther, to the pulse beat at the base. She closed her eyes, afraid to let her vulnerability shine through.
Her full, rosy lips were parted ever so slightly. The restless way she arched her back made him positive that she was feeling the same things he was. She couldn’t hide from him. Not her vulnerability—nor her sensuality.
Swaying toward her, he felt dizzy and lost. He leaned over and gently brushed his mouth across hers. Just the lightest touch of lips was all he’d meant to do. But the velvety smooth pleasure of her mouth and the small, soft noise she made left his brain stuttering and stunned.
He took her chin with one hand and let himself sink deeply into the seduction of her mouth. She tasted of the ocean and the sky, of all the earthy and sensual things he’d ever loved.
He kissed her…and kissed her. The moist heat bubbled up between them just as the sweat beaded across the small of his back. Pulling them both to sitting positions, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself tightly against his chest.
“Let me touch you,” he said against her lips. Rubbing his hands up and down her spine, he felt her shirt sliding over her skin.
She pushed back slightly and settled herself on her bottom. “You’re sure this place is private?” she asked with a groggy and heavily impassioned rasp in her voice.
“Positive.” He didn’t waste a split second with dragging her shirt over her head. Taking in the full view of her, he groaned. “You are so beautiful.”
A sheer white bra covered her full breasts. But not so much that it hid the darkened nipples, puckered and hard beneath his hungry gaze. Paralyzed with need, he sat frozen and stared at the tantalizing sight.
“Marc, please,” she moaned. But before he could move to please himself, Dana took his hands and drew them to her breasts. “Touch me,” she begged.
He traced the dusky outline of her nipples with his thumbs, but kept his eyes trained on hers. Using the pads of his fingers, he traced around the edges of the bra and watched her pupils dilate. He wanted to go slow. Wanted to savor the flush of desire he saw on her face.
Honestly he did. But she was affecting him on a level no woman had ever reached before, and he wanted to know why. Why was this so different? Why couldn’t he think past the erotic longings?
“You want more?” he gasped.
She nodded, but kept her gaze steady.
He reached around her back and unsnapped the bra. Then edged his fingers beneath the straps and tormented them both by gliding those straps down her shoulders in a slow, playful slide. She jerked her arms free and he let the bra float away.
Once again he had to take a breath at the sheer beauty of her body. He kept his arms at his side and looked his fill. She eventually moved to cover herself, but he grabbed her wrists and held her arms at her side.
“Part of the fun is looking, Dana. Don’t hide from me. I love your body.” He cupped her breasts with his palms and bent his head to pull one nipple between his lips, lapping her sensitive skin with his tongue. “Looking. Touching. Tasting. It’s all naturally designed to make you feel good,” he whispered against her skin.
He blew a hot breath across the tip of her breast, then nipped it with his teeth. She arched her back again and writhed as he tugged at her breast more insistently.
Looking up into her face, he saw her nostrils flare, her lips part and her eyes flame with desire. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin. The sensation threw him into an excruciatingly sexual arousal and blinded him with a blue haze of need.
Gasping for air, he pushed her backward, shifted his hands to her wrists and pulled them over her head. A kind of madness filled him. A madness born from her strong nature and from his year of celibacy.
He shoved a thigh between her legs and opened his mouth on her throat. Sucking her tender skin, he licked his way down the curve of her breast and flicked his tongue lightly over the sensitive skin.
She arched against him, bucking her hips and straining against his hold on her wrists. Oh, but the taste of her was more than he bargained for. He feasted on the sweet, salty and decadent pleasures.
Running the flat of his tongue around her belly button, he sucked, lathed and nipped with abandon. When Marc ran into the waistband of her jeans, he opened the zipper with a quick rip before either one of them could think about it, dragging the denim down over her hips and pitching it over his shoulder.
He was lost in her softness. In the little cotton and lace panties she wore and the quiver she made when he covered her mound with his mouth. Kissing his way down one thigh and back up the other, he delighted in her strangled cries and the dampness at the juncture of her legs.
Clutching at his hair, she tugged him back up her body and kissed him with a violent need. Marc loved that she seemed as frantic as he was. Dana, the tough FBI agent, desperate and wild with passion for him.
He was helpless to do anything else but meet her demand for demand. When she reached for his zipper with trembling hands, he helped her by shifting to rid himself of the clothing. Then he straddled her hips, bending over to take her breast into his mouth one more time.
Her eyes grew suddenly wide and she reached for his rigid sex. She touched the tip, running her finger down the smooth shaft with pleasure. A bead of moisture erupted under her touch and he had to move away from her before he lost it altogether.
Reaching out to him with both arms wide, she writhed and moaned. “Please, Marc. Please.”
He took the invitation, pulling her panties off with abandon. She spread her legs and he touched her intimately, judging her readiness. Hot. Wet. And inviting.
Her hands moved over his chest, finding his nipples and running over his muscles. Bracing himself with one arm, he urgently caught her buttocks with the other hand and lifted her hips toward him. At last. He entered her on an agonizingly slow slide, while a shudder tore through him at the tight, perfect pleasure of it.
Dana tensed against him. And it suddenly hit him that she was too tight, too tense.
He stopped, lifting his head to question her. “You’re not a virgin. That can’t be.” He moaned with the shock of it and tried to gather his badly scattered wits.
“Please, Marc. I need you,” she demanded with passion.
That simple but frantic plea might not have been enough to send him over the edge of reason. But then she wound her legs tightly around his waist, gripped him internally and arched once more, sending him spiraling deeper into her glorious warmth.
He found himself in a maze of heat and pulsing passion. With Dana swirling all around him—whimpering, begging, squirming under him.
“I…I can’t…” Her sobs were those of a woman who was completely out of her element and didn’t quite know…
He reached between them, flicked a finger over her center and dove into welcoming depths. Her cry was savage and feral as she shuddered around him. She dug her nails into his arms and bit his neck as her body continued