by Maya Banks
“Kissing is.”
He took her mouth with his. Negotiations on this topic weren’t necessary. While his lips beguiled, his hands undressed. Her jeans landed in a pile on top of his.
“You are wearing panties,” he acknowledged as he slipped a finger beneath the silky material.
“I won’t be if you take them off.” His finger felt shockingly cool in the heat of her slick folds. She shivered as he ran it over her lips once before dipping it inside. Deep, deep inside. The pleasure was so sharp her inner walls clamped around him.
He dropped to his knees and pushed her until she sat on the edge of the bed. Still he did not remove her panties. Instead he withdrew his finger and lowered his head to her lap. Through the silk and lace he kissed her, running his tongue slowly over her throbbing clit. He kissed her until she was a shivering wreck on the bed. Until she was panting and sobbing.
“Fire it up, Steve,” she begged, and finally, finally her panties were discarded.
He moved away for a second, grabbed his wallet and put it down again, and then he was back, fired up and ready to go.
Pen scooted up the bed, making space for him between her legs, and Steve settled there, right where he belonged, with the tip of his erection torturously close to her aching center. Her body trembled with longing, her hunger so insatiable she had to swallow down a cry.
“You told me you weren’t going to kiss me,” Steve said again as he lowered his face to hers and kissed her chastely.
“We’ve been through this already,” she answered and deepened the kiss. As her tongue invaded his mouth, he nudged his erection stingily between her lower lips. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him in further.
Sweet heaven, if he didn’t take her now, she would not be held accountable for her actions.
“Steve,” she moaned. “Please.”
“Please what?” Beads of sweat formed on his brow.
“Please.” She ground her hips against him, trying to increase the depth of penetration. “Make love to me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, as though in pain, and then opened them again. “You told me you weren’t going to marry me either.”
Oh, please. Not that again. Not now. “I’m not.” Again she ground her hips into his. The ache between her legs grew worse, the longing brutal. “I’m going to use you for sex.”
