Finally he drags his head away and looks at me, eyes black with desire. “Dammit, Alicia,” he growls, breath coming in labored gasps. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”
I can only whimper, still rocking against him for another sweet burst of pressure. Whatever he’s feeling, it can’t be worse than me. I’m mindless, dizzy with pure longing when he suddenly stands, effortlessly lifting me with him, my legs still locked around his waist.
Dex climbs out of the pool and strides across the deck area, holding me tight. Water drips from our bodies, leaving a trail across the tile as he climbs the stairs up to the house. I cling to him, savoring the feel of his body as he crosses the living room, heading determinedly down the hallway to the master suite.
Dex throws open the door and deposits me in the middle of his huge king-sized bed. I fall back on the crisp white linens with a gasp, and then there’s no time to think because he’s covering my body with his, every inch of delicious hard muscle bearing me down into the soft bedding as he kisses me until the world is gone, and I’m molten and gasping in his arms.
Dear Lord, his mouth is a miracle. Desire floods my body, the touchpaper lit, the flames burning hotter than ever. His hands rove everywhere, touching, squeezing at my sensitive flesh, and I arch up against him, wrapping my legs around his waist, wishing there was nothing left between us at all.
It feels so good to be beneath him, pinned in place, my body cradled in his arms. I’m undone, stealing greedy kisses from his lips and down his neck, teasing my tongue against his jawline and sucking his earlobe in my mouth.
Dex groans, wrenching away from me. He rocks back on his heels, kneeling above me, his eyes devouring me. The sun is bright behind him, casting his body in shadows. A dark smile plays on his lips, the kind that makes my stomach turn over in a slow spin.
“I’ve pictured you here a hundred nights,” he tells me. “You drove me half-crazy, leaving me alone that night. I swore, if I got you back here, I’d make you never want to walk away again.”
His words crash over me. I reach for him, needing his touch, but Dex doesn’t move.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says hoarsely, his eyes black with passion. “I need to see you.” he pauses, his voice tightening in a low, commanding tone.
“I want to see you touch yourself.”
My heart stops.
I inhale a quick gasp, my mind racing. I’ve been going mad with desire all day now, but my dreams of Dex have always been secret in the night. Neon light and black shadows, a place to hide away my insecurity and doubts.
There’s no hiding here. Sunlight is streaming through the windows, bright and warm, the room crisp and white around me. And still, Dex watches me.
Waiting.
“Show me,” he demands. “Show me where you want my hands.”
Oh god.
My heart racing, I hesitantly trail my fingertips over my breasts.
Dex’s breath catches. His eyes flash, dark.
Emboldened, I slowly trace around each nipple, feeling the rush of sensation from my touch. I imagine these are his hands, his touch. My eyes are locked on his hot, hungry stare, watching him watch me, and it’s so sexy, so intimate, I hear myself whimper softly.
“More,” Dex demands roughly. He clutches the bedcovers, crumpling them in his fists. I want those hands on me, need him so desperately, but there’s a new thrill taking me over now.
The power of seduction, making him pant and groan for me.
I want to drive him wild.
Slowly, I rise up on my knees. Keeping his gaze, I roll my nipple between my fingers, squeezing harder. Pleasure shivers through me, I moan again, louder.
Dex curses under his breath. His body is shaking with tension, and I can see the proof of his desire outlined, hard under his underwear.
I want to touch him.
I bite my lip, sliding my other hand lower, over my stomach, down to my hip. I trace along the edge of my panties, and then slip my fingers under the waistband, sliding them down to meet my hot, aching flesh.
Yes.
I close my eyes, sinking into the sensation. I stroke myself, slow at first, and then stronger, still picturing Dex’s fingers instead of my own, imagining his rough touch on my delicate flesh.
“Look at me.”
My eyes snap open at his command. Dex is stroking himself through his underwear, his eyes half-closed and feverish with desire. I reach for him, desperate to touch him, but Dex pushes me back, so I’m laying spread on the bed again.
“No,” he growls. “Just you. I want to watch you come undone. Don’t stop, show me everything you want.”
My heart skitters, I feel like I’m going to combust. But he still won’t touch me. He just kneels at the end of the bed, stroking himself, watching me with that dark, possessive stare.
Oh God, I want to surrender. I need to obey him, give him what my body so desperately wants.
I lift my head to meet his gaze, and slide my hand back between my thighs.
“Yes,” he murmurs, panting. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone at night, and there’s nobody watching. Show me what your body needs, sweet Alicia.”
I need him, more than I thought possible, but I’m caught up in this reckless game now, and I want to make him see—see how my body aches for him, see everything I’ve dreamed about him doing for so long.
Keeping my gaze locked on his, I begin to stroke myself with the circling friction that makes me moan. I arch my hips against my hand, finding the maddening rhythm that makes my blood sing and my body ache. It’s not enough, the fabric constricts me, so I wriggle out of my panties and push them lower, over my hips.
I can only whimper, still rocking against him for another sweet burst of pressure. Whatever he’s feeling, it can’t be worse than me. I’m mindless, dizzy with pure longing when he suddenly stands, effortlessly lifting me with him, my legs still locked around his waist.
Dex climbs out of the pool and strides across the deck area, holding me tight. Water drips from our bodies, leaving a trail across the tile as he climbs the stairs up to the house. I cling to him, savoring the feel of his body as he crosses the living room, heading determinedly down the hallway to the master suite.
Dex throws open the door and deposits me in the middle of his huge king-sized bed. I fall back on the crisp white linens with a gasp, and then there’s no time to think because he’s covering my body with his, every inch of delicious hard muscle bearing me down into the soft bedding as he kisses me until the world is gone, and I’m molten and gasping in his arms.
Dear Lord, his mouth is a miracle. Desire floods my body, the touchpaper lit, the flames burning hotter than ever. His hands rove everywhere, touching, squeezing at my sensitive flesh, and I arch up against him, wrapping my legs around his waist, wishing there was nothing left between us at all.
It feels so good to be beneath him, pinned in place, my body cradled in his arms. I’m undone, stealing greedy kisses from his lips and down his neck, teasing my tongue against his jawline and sucking his earlobe in my mouth.
Dex groans, wrenching away from me. He rocks back on his heels, kneeling above me, his eyes devouring me. The sun is bright behind him, casting his body in shadows. A dark smile plays on his lips, the kind that makes my stomach turn over in a slow spin.
“I’ve pictured you here a hundred nights,” he tells me. “You drove me half-crazy, leaving me alone that night. I swore, if I got you back here, I’d make you never want to walk away again.”
His words crash over me. I reach for him, needing his touch, but Dex doesn’t move.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says hoarsely, his eyes black with passion. “I need to see you.” he pauses, his voice tightening in a low, commanding tone.
“I want to see you touch yourself.”
My heart stops.
I inhale a quick gasp, my mind racing. I’ve been going mad with desire all day now, but my dreams of Dex have always been secret in the night. Neon light and black shadows, a place to hide away my insecurity and doubts.
There’s no hiding here. Sunlight is streaming through the windows, bright and warm, the room crisp and white around me. And still, Dex watches me.
Waiting.
“Show me,” he demands. “Show me where you want my hands.”
Oh god.
My heart racing, I hesitantly trail my fingertips over my breasts.
Dex’s breath catches. His eyes flash, dark.
Emboldened, I slowly trace around each nipple, feeling the rush of sensation from my touch. I imagine these are his hands, his touch. My eyes are locked on his hot, hungry stare, watching him watch me, and it’s so sexy, so intimate, I hear myself whimper softly.
“More,” Dex demands roughly. He clutches the bedcovers, crumpling them in his fists. I want those hands on me, need him so desperately, but there’s a new thrill taking me over now.
The power of seduction, making him pant and groan for me.
I want to drive him wild.
Slowly, I rise up on my knees. Keeping his gaze, I roll my nipple between my fingers, squeezing harder. Pleasure shivers through me, I moan again, louder.
Dex curses under his breath. His body is shaking with tension, and I can see the proof of his desire outlined, hard under his underwear.
I want to touch him.
I bite my lip, sliding my other hand lower, over my stomach, down to my hip. I trace along the edge of my panties, and then slip my fingers under the waistband, sliding them down to meet my hot, aching flesh.
Yes.
I close my eyes, sinking into the sensation. I stroke myself, slow at first, and then stronger, still picturing Dex’s fingers instead of my own, imagining his rough touch on my delicate flesh.
“Look at me.”
My eyes snap open at his command. Dex is stroking himself through his underwear, his eyes half-closed and feverish with desire. I reach for him, desperate to touch him, but Dex pushes me back, so I’m laying spread on the bed again.
“No,” he growls. “Just you. I want to watch you come undone. Don’t stop, show me everything you want.”
My heart skitters, I feel like I’m going to combust. But he still won’t touch me. He just kneels at the end of the bed, stroking himself, watching me with that dark, possessive stare.
Oh God, I want to surrender. I need to obey him, give him what my body so desperately wants.
I lift my head to meet his gaze, and slide my hand back between my thighs.
“Yes,” he murmurs, panting. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone at night, and there’s nobody watching. Show me what your body needs, sweet Alicia.”
I need him, more than I thought possible, but I’m caught up in this reckless game now, and I want to make him see—see how my body aches for him, see everything I’ve dreamed about him doing for so long.
Keeping my gaze locked on his, I begin to stroke myself with the circling friction that makes me moan. I arch my hips against my hand, finding the maddening rhythm that makes my blood sing and my body ache. It’s not enough, the fabric constricts me, so I wriggle out of my panties and push them lower, over my hips.
