“We are doing this,” he said. He withdrew a jacket from the closet, one that was thin, the material capable of repelling water, and tossed it at her. “Remove your bra, leave on your shirt, then put this on.”
She licked her lips as she obeyed. “Are we going all the way?”
Softly asked, but no less powerful.
He gave a slow incline of his head. “All the way.”
Slowly she lay back against the bed. Through her shirt and the part in the jacket, he could see her nipples were already hard and ready to be sucked.
“The jeans,” he said. “Get rid of them. Panties, too.”
She shimmied out of both and tossed the material aside.
Such long legs, stopping at the new center of his universe. Pink...damp. His heart almost stopped.
He walked away a second time—surely the most difficult task of his life.
“Torin?”
He’d thought about this. A lot. Thought he’d found a way to have everything he yearned for—everything she yearned for. He found a pair of cotton pants and a pair of gloves and gave them to her. Her tremors intensified as she pulled on both.
As she watched, her eyes practically crackling with flames, he opened his fly and removed some of the pressure from his throbbing erection; but he didn’t discard a single piece of his clothing. And he wouldn’t.
He donned a condom before crawling up the mattress. Keeley sucked in a breath. With deliberate leisure, he moved toward her. When finally he was situated between her legs, he curled his fingers around her ankles, the brilliant heat of her skin burning through the layers between them. She moaned as he traced his thumbs against the arches of her feet, then up...up...stopping when he reached her knees.
“Do you like having my hands on you?” he asked.
“More than anything,” she gasped out.
He continued up...up...and when he reached the center of the cotton, he leaned forward, placed the edge of the jacket between her legs and pressed in with his tongue, her body totally protected from his. Even from his saliva. He licked over her hidden but not to be denied by him core. She writhed, arching her hips, seeking more of him, and he worked his tongue in harder, faster circles.
“Torin!” Moaning, she dug her feet into the mattress and reached out to run her gloved fingers through his hair. “Feels amazing.”
Men often spent their whole lives searching for a woman like her. But he had her. Him. Only him. The one without experience. The one who could harm her irrevocably. And yet she couldn’t seem to get enough of him.
“Wish I had your honey dripping down my throat.” He continued working his tongue against her, wetting the resistant material even as she wetted it. It wasn’t long before he imagined he could actually taste her. So sweet, so damn good.
She moved against him, with him, and he brought his teeth into play, nipping at her...then sucking at her...then nipping again...and she quickened the speed of her arches, arching, arching against him, and then crying out his name, her voice a broken rasp as she came swift and hard.
But he wasn’t finished with her.
He journeyed upward. Through the jacket, he licked at her navel. He’d never given this particular area any thought. In his fantasies, he’d gone for chest and core—what he’d considered the good stuff—nothing else even a blip. But every inch of this woman was precious to him. A feast to be devoured.
“What do you want me to do to you?” she asked and gasped as he nipped at her nipple. “Please let me—”
“I just want you to enjoy. I’ve never had this before, and I want to give you all, everything.” He kneaded her breasts, her soft, lush breasts, as he fit his lips over one of her nipples, sucked, then did the same to the other.
She’d opened her mouth to say something else—not that he would listen to anything other than “Yes, Torin, whatever you desire, Torin,” but the words were replaced by a moan of surrender as her pleasure built to another fever pitch.
He sucked, hard, and the moan turned into a groan. She cupped the back of his neck, holding him in place. Her knees ran up and down his sides as he slinked a gloved hand down her stomach, tunneled under the waist of her pants... She stilled, though her grip tightened on him. He balanced on the edge of a razor-sharp cliff as he pressed his fingers against her moist heat.
Tremors rocked her against him. She groaned, then begged for more, harder. He rubbed in circles...up and down...circles again...until she was gasping, muttering incoherently, her legs spreading wide, wider.
“Fill me,” she pleaded. “Please, fill me up.”
Helpless to resist, he fed her a single finger. Her inner walls clamped on him, so wonderfully tight; he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from spilling then and there. He leaned his forehead into her sternum, his muscles flexing with a flood of intoxicating desire, his veins expanding with a new rush of blood, pumping white-hot pleasure to every inch of him. Sweat trickled down his temples, between his shoulder blades.
“So good, Torin. It’s so good. It’s driving me...mad...not sure I’ll...survive. Who knew...this is how...I’d die? What are you...doing to me?”
Giving you all that I am. He fed her another finger, moved it in and out, slowly at first, then thrusting faster...even harder...like he wanted to do so desperately with his shaft. Not yet.
“Can you take another, princess?”
He didn’t wait for her answer, just worked in the third.
* * *
KEELEY WAS ON fire with realization and need. Torin had chosen her above all others, above everything, and now her body ached from his fierce attention, her skin tingled underneath her clothing, and her limbs trembled. Magnificent.