He couldn’t take his eyes off the red lace bra. Until she pulled down her jeans and he saw the matching bikinis. And any brain cells still working clicked completely off when she climbed onto his lap and took his mouth with hers.
He had no choice but to wait out the first jolt. Then he greedily absorbed the second and third as she threaded her fingers through his hair and began to use her teeth on his lips—teasing, tormenting, torturing.
Nipping on his earlobe, she whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do this since I walked into the room.”
Ditto. He wanted to say the words out loud, but her mouth was busy on his again.
“Oh, mmm,” she murmured as if she’d just discovered a flavor she’d been craving.
He certainly had. You, he thought. Only you.
Sensations simply battered him and he relished each one. The softness of her thighs pressed against his waist. Her scent, feminine and filled with secrets. The low husky sounds that hummed in her throat and sizzled straight to his loins. The scrape of her nails as she flipped open the buttons of his golf shirt, then tugged it loose from his pants.
Together, they stripped off his shirt. Then her hands were on his flesh, inciting, arousing, demanding. Each trace of her fingers, each press of her palms brought a pleasure so intense, a weakness so delicious that he began to ache. She was aggressive in a way he’d never imagined or dreamed. She bewitched him in a way no other woman ever had.
When she drew back enough to slip her hands between them and tug open his belt, his fingers tangled with hers to free him. She found him, caressed him, and he lost his breath and probably part of his mind.
“Now,” she said.
Her command triggered explosions inside of him. He thought he’d been prepared, but anticipation and reality were worlds apart. He covered both lace-covered breasts with his palms, heard the quick intake of her breath, felt the thunderous beat of her heart. And need clawed through him. She’d had a point about the white knight analogy, he thought. For the first time in his life, he’d wanted to just sweep a woman away on his charger to a place where he could keep her safe and make her his. More than that, he wanted to pull her to the floor and ravage her the way a warrior might claim the spoils of war.
But first, he wanted more. He needed more.
“My turn.” He could barely hear the sound of his voice above the pounding of his blood, but he slid his hands down to her waist and stood, bringing them both up and out of the chair. In one quick step, he braced her against the bookshelves and began to take what he needed.
EVEN THOUGH HIS HANDS MOVED like lightning, each quick, impatient caress sent a separate thrill rocketing through her. This was the part she’d never gotten to in the fantasies she’d penned. How could she have known?
More. Had she said it or merely thought it?
His hands moved between them to flip open her bra. Then he lowered his mouth and devoured. Each flick of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth brought a sharp, edgy shaft of pleasure.
Too much. Too much. Her heart had never beat so fast. Her body had never pulsed with so much life. But even as she reeled in a tidal wave of pleasures, all she craved was more. More.
Suddenly his mouth was gone. So were his hands.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and dragged in a breath. “Don’t stop.”
But he was already carrying her away from the bookcase and suddenly her feet were on the floor.
“I want to slow things down,” he said.
“Why?” She gripped his shoulder and rose up on her toes. “Fast was great.”
He framed her face with his hands. “Because I’ve waited seven years, and you did say something about any way I want it?”
When she nodded, he drew them both down so that they were kneeling and facing each other. “Let me show you.” He combed his fingers slowly through her hair, drawing it back from her face. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the day of our parents’ wedding. You had your hair all twisted up in a fancy knot and I wanted my hands in it. I wanted to taste you, too.” Lowering his mouth slowly to hers, he did just that. But not the way he had before. His lips barely brushed against hers before he traced their shape with his tongue. And just like that, he opened up a whole new world of sensations.
There was none of the flash and fire she’d felt before. Just softness and a glorious warmth that seemed to be turning her blood thick. Each time the heat threatened to flare, he would withdraw and change the angle of the kiss as if he were searching for the perfect position and was determined to find it. Her mind began to spin. Each time he changed the pressure of his mouth, heat, glorious waves of it, shimmered right through to the marrow of her bones. When her muscles went lax and her hand dropped from his shoulder, he lowered her slowly to the floor.
“Can’t think,” she whispered.
“Don’t,” he murmured against her mouth. “Just feel.”
Starting with her throat and shoulders, he took his fingers and mouth on a journey down her body. Tasting, teasing, tempting. Sensations swamped her. Each one carried her further and further beyond what she’d ever imagined. Shouldn’t she have known that the brush of a fingertip over the tip of her breast would make her tremble? Or that the scrape of a fingernail at the back of her knee could make her moan? Or that the feathering of his breath at her waist would make her heart skip and race? No one had ever made her want or need this way.
Fire and ice rippled over her nerve endings at the same time that a flame flickered to life in her center and sent sparks spreading in a slow burn through her system. When he slipped a finger into her, she gasped his name as the unspeakable pleasure rushed through her. Then she fell weightlessly, bonelessly, and even as she did, he used his mouth on her and sent her soaring again. And again. There was nothing, no one but him. He could have asked anything of her. She would have refused him nothing. But all he did was give her more.
WHEN HE DREW BACK, HE WATCHED her in the thin shafts of sunlight as he hurriedly dealt with the rest of his clothes and slipped on protection. Her skin was sheened with moisture, her hair spread out on the floor, her eyes dazed and on his.
“Now,” she whispered.
That one word shredded whatever thin grasp he still had on his control and triggered a series of explosions inside of him. The craving that had been building for so long had become so huge that he wasn’t going to survive another second unless he filled her.
When he did, she cried out from the shock, from the intensity of the pleasure, and he felt his control snap. As he drove into her in fast, desperate thrusts, she matched him move for move. Heat became intense. Glorious. The pace was fast. Furious.
They were in a race, one that everything depended on, and they were neck and neck. The speed was insane, the pleasure outrageous. They both cried out as they reached the finish line together. He heard his name blend with hers before reality faded completely.
WHEN PIPER FINALLY OPENED HER eyes, she was lying on the floor of the library staring up at the ceiling two stories above. Her mind was gradually swimming back to reality, and she wasn’t sure she could move. It wasn’t just the fact that Duncan’s arm and leg were pinning her down. She’d just never felt so relaxed, so spent. So … right?
No. Quickly, she pictured her bottle and corked up that little idea. Sex on demand was the perfect fantasy. No strings. No expectations. That was the deal she’d made with Duncan and herself.
At least she hoped they’d both agreed to it. She’d done most of the talking before she’d climbed onto his lap and conversation had pretty much ceased. She wasn’t even clear on how much time had passed since she’d first entered the library. Minutes? Surely not hours. The slant of the sun