Never Enough
Page 27

 Lauren Dane

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If she’d expected him to be shy, she’d have been wrong. He let her look her fill, that sexy smile of his planted on his mouth.
She shivered, thinking about his mouth a moment as the music shifted to Vivaldi.
He stood there in her bedroom, hair tousled, sexy-mouthed rock star. Complete with three gold hoops in one ear and a bar running through his right nipple.
Broad shoulders led over a tightly muscled chest down to a narrower waist. On his belly lived an intricate Celtic tattoo. “Is that a serpent?”
He made a sound, sort of a growl, as she traced over it. Warm, hard skin pebbled under her touch. She wanted to purr at the power of that moment.
“Yes. I’ve got another you might want to see.”
She laughed, charmed.
“Another tattoo? Or another serpent? Never mind, I’ll see both.”
“If you don’t kill me first.”
“Now why would I do that? Today, anyway. Perhaps you’d have received a completely different answer to that question a week ago.”
“Seems my luck is looking up. Your tits are the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. Just so you know and all. I’m going to be spending a great deal of time getting acquainted with them.” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and worked it.
“Cheek.” She shook her head, trying to be stern and failing.
He held his hands out as if to surrender, and her attention was again snagged on his body. On those hot and sexy forearms she’d seen a glimpse of earlier. All covered in water and then later flour from punching and rolling out the dough.
Now she got the whole package. “I must admit to you that there’s just so much to look at I feel a little faint.”
“Take your time.” He slid his hand up his belly, flicking his nipple ring. “Because I will be getting all up in you when you’re finished.”
Whoo. Boy.
“You’re very good at the foreplay. Whatever will you be like when you’re buried in me to your balls?”
His smile changed, just a little bit. This one drew her in closer as she ran her palms over powerful hands and wrists, sliding her fingertips over knuckles and the sensitive wristbones on her way to the tattoos.
“You’re a dirty girl.”
She looked up, holding his gaze. “I know what I like.”
He leaned down and took her mouth. Hot as a fever, need crawled through her belly. A delicious, nearly painful pleasure twisting through her.
This kiss was slow and deep. His tongue tasted, teased, danced along hers. His taste dizzied her, sent signals to every part of her body. Her cunt, already slick for hours, was so sensitive and ready that every time she moved, just that small bit of pressure sent little shocks of pleasure skittering through her.
Her ni**les slid across his chest, making it worse. Well, no, better.
When he broke the kiss, it left her a little off-kilter for a moment as she gripped his arms, looking into his face. She licked her lips, wanting more of his taste, and he groaned.
“You have no shirt on. This is very distracting.”
“I can say the exact same thing.” She stepped back and indicated him with a tip of her chin. “Look at you! Those jeans fitting you just right so that now all I really want to know is if you’ve got yourself a pair of the other kind. The ones that are threadbare on the back pocket where a wallet was carried.” She reached out and drew her nails up the front of his jeans, over the zipper and his very hard cock. “And here on the front. The kind with a hole in the thigh, frayed at the hem.”
“Now I know what I’ll wear the next time I see you.”
She’d look at him some more after they both came. She made herself that promise. But for the moment, she had to get him in her, on her, against her.
“You should take those off.”
“Oh, are we at that portion of this evening’s events?” He said this as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and slid them slowly over his hips and to the ground, stepping out of them, his underwear and socks too.
“I’d just sort of made a deal with myself to look my fill at you after we both came, but then you go and show me all of you.”
Sun-kissed, just like the rest of him. A dusting of dark hair covered long, muscular legs. Tight calves, powerful thighs. A c**k so hard it tapped his belly.
“And here I thought I’d have to use my showerhead after you left tonight. This is much better,” she murmured, staring at him like the visual buffet table he was.
“Never use a showerhead instead of me. Unless I’m there to watch.” He sighed, happily eating her up with his gaze. “We’ll need to get back to that later. Now, I took off my pants, English. I have to propose you do the same. It’s only fair.”
Aware he watched her every move, she slowly drew the long zipper at the back of her pants down before stepping out of them. She left the panties on. Because, well, duh.
“Wow. That’s. Whew. Gillian, each layer you peel back is more amazing than the last. And while”—he circled, looking her over—“these panties are hotter than the sun, I want to see all of you.”
He kissed her shoulder, tripping his fingers down the line of her spine.
When she’d kicked her panties to the side, he gulped and shook his head.
“Curves that lure a man to explore in every way possible. I want to eat you all up.”
As if she’d complain?
He fell to his knees, brushing his lips over her belly.
“I can smell how much you want me.”