I Love How You Love Me

It nearly killed him to lift his mouth and hands from her, but her dress was tangling on his fingers. “I need you naked. Now.”

When he reached for the zipper at the side of her dress and began to pull it down, he knew the sound would be forever connected in his brain with sex. The hottest sex of his life. Grace lifted her hips so that he could pull her dress down, and soon she was left wearing only sexy panties that matched the bra he’d already stripped away. Slowly, so slowly that he knew it just might do them both in, he slid the sheer panties off her hips and down her beautiful legs. Her breath came in hard pants as he moved his hands back up her legs, from calves to knees and then thighs before he finally—finally!—cupped hot, wet flesh.

She moaned as she shifted her hips up higher into his hand, and Dylan could feel how close to the edge he was. Too close. So close that he was afraid he might not be able to form a coherent thought soon. Before that happened, she had to know, “If you need me to slow down, if you feel like we’re pushing too far, too fast, if you need me to stop, I will. No matter what.”

“I know you will. That’s why I don’t want you to hold anything back from me. Not tonight. Don’t hold back, Dylan.”

With her words—Don’t hold back, Dylan—playing over and over inside his head, he put his hands on her legs and dragged her hips to the edge of the couch so that her sex was just inches from his hungry mouth, with only her super-sexy golden heels still on.

“I can’t hold back,” he told her, every word raw, desperate, and totally honest. “Not with you.”

God, she was sweet. And so damned addictive that as he tasted and teased the slick skin between her legs, though she definitely wasn’t trying to get away, he gripped her hips tightly to hold her right where he wanted her. From the way her eyes darkened and her skin flushed even further, he knew she liked the slightly rough play of his hands over her soft curves.

Because for all her professed early nerves, Grace had always been one hundred percent sensual woman in his arms. And the way she gave herself over to pleasure as he slid one finger into her, then another, all while flicking the center of her arousal with his tongue? It only confirmed yet again that they were not only meant for each other, but also that her innate sensual hungers matched his perfectly.

One wicked image after another flew through his brain. Binding her wrists and ankles with silk ties to drive her to the edge again and again until neither one could take it anymore. Having her wait for him on her hands and knees for just long enough that she thought she might go crazy waiting even another second, then driving into her so that she came the moment he took her. Taking her out onto his boat, both of them naked as they dove into the water and then wrapping her all around him as she held on to the ship’s ladder and he drove up into her.

Dylan had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Grace to feel good, so when she went tumbling into climax with his mouth and hands on her, he made sure to take her back up to the peak again before she’d even come all the way down.

“Dylan, I can’t—” she began in faint protest.

But he could feel how close she was to coming apart again, less than sixty seconds after her first orgasm, so he replaced his tongue with his fingers. “One more. For me.” Shifting so that he could kiss her mouth while still playing with the hot, wet flesh between her legs, he thrust his tongue against hers with the same rhythm as his fingers inside her.

Within seconds, she was riding his hand without any inhibition, and he nearly lost it, especially when he let himself think about the fact that soon it wouldn’t be just his fingers inside her. He loved the way she was gripping his shoulders so hard that her nails scored his back, loved knowing that she’d marked him in her passion.

Marked him as hers.

She was soft and boneless against him as he came up onto the couch and gathered her close. She rested her head in the crook of his neck as he stroked her back while she worked to catch her breath.

“I thought you were kidding when you said you were going to give me a handful of orgasms,” she whispered.

He whispered back, “Two isn’t a handful.”

Her eyes flew open again, and she might have tried to tell him she didn’t have another orgasm in her for the night had he not covered her mouth with his. He was about to pull her up to straddle him on the couch when she beat him to it.

They were both panting by the time she lifted her mouth from his and said, “Who said the handful has to be all mine?”

“Grace...”

But she only laughed when he growled her name in warning, and when she yanked at his dress shirt, this time he didn’t stop her from unbuttoning it partway and pulling it over his head. The sooner he was naked, the sooner he’d be inside of her. And once he was there, he already knew he’d never want to leave, never want to let her go, never want to stop loving her.

She lowered her mouth to his pecs, and again and again she kissed him, teasing and tasting him the way he’d teased and tasted her bare skin, until his head was spinning and he was gripping her hair in his hands the way she’d gripped his when he’d been loving every inch of her.

Drawing deeply from a bank of superhuman self-control, he lifted her back up over him so that they were mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hip to hip. “One more time, Grace. Come for me one more time before I make you mine.”

He said the words between kisses against her neck and breasts, and when he slid his fingers back inside of her, he didn’t let her set the pace this time, just took her up—up—up—so fast that all she could do was give both of them another climax.