When he pulled back, she was tempted to beg him not to stop, but she clamped her teeth over her lower lip to keep the words inside. Her body was anxious, aching for the race to be finished. But Jasmine wanted to savor the ride. She glanced up to find his gaze glued to the deep V of her neckline—a design she’d deliberately chosen with him in mind.
Then her own gaze dropped and she glimpsed the edges of his neck tattoo above the open collar of his button-down shirt. Curious, she let her fingers trail over the skin of his neck to push the material aside.
To her surprise, the elegant tendrils she’d often glimpsed above his collar gave way to a solid shield, an old-world symbol emblazoned with a brilliantly colored dragon. It stood for strength. Protection. Not what she’d expected, but somehow very fitting for the man she was coming to know.
Her smile gave him all the permission he needed. His palms slid from the back of her neck down over her collarbones, leaving warm trails that quickly faded. When he finally reached her breasts, she gasped. Her nipples tightened in a quick rush, eager for attention.
He simply held them, each mound a handful. The heat from his hands soaked into her skin through the layers of her clothing. She couldn’t stop her back from arching just a little. Then his thumbs began a dedicated exploration that made her wish her clothes would just disappear.
She had no recollection of ever needing someone to see her, touch her, this badly. It was scary—just as much as it was exhilarating.
After long, long moments of exquisite torture, his devilish hands moved down—tracing her generous curves. His touch wasn’t simple. No. It was magic. The pressure and heat imprinted the feel of him on her skin.
How could a seemingly innocent touch make her knees go weak? Cause her bones to melt until she leaned forward, her hands braced on his shoulders as he knelt before her?
He eased off one of her high-heeled pumps. His thumbs traced the line of her foot before he squeezed hard into the arch, surprising a gasp from her. Maintaining the pressure, he slid his fingers along the silky surface of her thigh-highs. Too soon, he reached underneath her skirt to find the tops of her stockings and roll them down her legs.
Who knew being undressed could be such a sensual dance?
By the time both legs were bare, Jasmine’s entire body throbbed. Royce looked up at her from his crouching position. “Take your dress off for me.”
She knew where every tie was, every clasp. But she kept her movements slow, taking her time, building anticipation. It was worth ignoring her own need to see his eyes widen as she revealed a pale pink, lace-edged slip over matching bra and panties. When the dress finally puddled at her feet, he gripped her silk-covered hips and buried his face against her.
She thought she heard him suck in a deep breath. His hands tightened for a moment. Her tummy quivered beneath his cheek. Her throat went dry while she grew slick between her thighs.
Royce stood, only pulling his hands away at the very last minute. That small concession told her more than anything that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Then he circled around her to take in the view from every angle. To her surprise, he turned her to face the window. That’s when she realized their reflections stared back as if from an antique mirror. Hazy. Shimmery.
“This,” he said, running a finger along one bra strap, then the lace that edged the top curve of one breast, “is very sexy.” He pulled the straps down off her shoulders. Then he hooked his fingers in the material of her slip and slowly eased it down over her curves. “But it isn’t what I’m most interested in seeing.”
She had only a moment to catch the reflection of herself in the bra and panties before he picked her up and carried her down a longer hallway to the back of the penthouse.
With a quick sweep of her gaze, she took in the dim bedroom with dark furniture and smoky walls before Royce arranged her on the comforter on her knees, facing him as he stood beside the bed. The soft moonlight from the bedroom windows revealed his outline, but the details of his expression were now lost to her. Once more he traced the edges of the clothes she had left before slipping his hands beneath the silk of her panties to cup her rear.
His touch was firm, with just enough concession to her softness. Pulling her close, he rubbed his fully clothed body against her. The fact that he was covered while she was practically naked left her feeling decadent. The pressure of his erection excited her. Her body went wet in anticipation.
Again, that firm grip guided her down until she lay on the bed. His mouth devoured hers, teeth nipping her lips, tongue delving inside to stroke against hers.
She lost herself in the sensations.
Then, somehow, his mouth was sucking at her naked breast, pulling cries from her straining lungs. He worked one nipple, then the other until they were tight and hard. Electrical pulses streaked through her. She lifted her pelvis against him, more than ready for some relief from the driving urges inside her body.
Deftly, Royce rose to his knees. His dress shirt was gone in seconds. He opened his pants to reveal the very thing she needed in this moment. He put on protection quickly, efficiently. Then, with a snap of his wrist, he broke through her panties. All barriers were gone. Finally his body covered hers.
She could feel the rub of his suit pants against the insides of her thighs as his body searched for her opening. His fingers spread her wide, coating her with her own moisture to ease the way. Then they teased her, drawing out her cries of desperation.
Not soon enough, he entered her. She struggled for a moment to accommodate him. The pressure was exquisite. One lift of her hips and he slid inside.
There was no more waiting, no more savoring. They were both too desperate.
She clutched at his ribs as he pistoned into her, demanding her response. Indulging his own. Her cries mingled with his groans in the darkness.
All too soon, she needed more. Needed his utmost. She dug her nails into his buttocks, urging him to give her everything.
Then the exquisite pressure burst. The world turned white in a shower of stars. But the best part of it all was knowing that he followed her.
Royce woke to movement on the other side of the bed. He opened his eyes. Though there weren’t any lights on, he could see Jasmine walk around the end of the bed and out the door to the hallway. It was 1:30 a.m.
The normal debate he’d expect to have with himself never occurred. He simply acknowledged that he had no desire for Jasmine to leave. Getting up, he took a few seconds to pull on a pair of boxers—more for her comfort than his. Then he followed her to the living room.
He located her in one corner near the window by the light of her phone. She seemed to be reading from the screen. As he got closer, he could see that she’d pulled on her slip. Just the thought of that silky material over her naked skin sent him spinning.
Now he knew how someone could become addicted after just one hit.
“Everything okay?” he asked softly, hoping not to scare her.
She only jumped a little. Then she shook her head. “Yeah. I was just checking in.”
The silence hung between them for a minute, but for Royce it wasn’t the usual awkwardness that came with this situation. Though he could honestly say he’d never been in this situation before. He’d never fallen asleep next to any of the few women he’d bothered to let distract him enough from work to get to sex. Now he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than for Jasmine to spend the rest of the night.
That should have had him freaking out, but he wasn’t going to analyze why it didn’t.
“Need to go?” he finally asked.
Jasmine