No one would match him like Ciara. No one ever had. Here, there was instant trust. Last time it was just sex. This time he'd make love to her.
And he'd show her there was a big difference between the two.
* * *
Chapter 8
Ciara gave herself permission to want, to take, to have something she'd been denied. This man's loving. This man's touch. The way he made her feel so cherished and desired. Even when they were out of control.
And they were getting there.
Fast.
And there was no turning back. Not without regret and she was full of those lately. She grabbed him by the shirtfront, pulling one side of the fabric tight and popping open each button, then yanking it from his trousers. All the while he kissed her, molding her mouth, his hands chasing over her body. She pushed the material off his shoulders and down his arms, then splayed her hands across his chest.
He flinched at the contact and met her gaze. She could almost feel him tasting her with his eyes. A flood of fantasy and memory swept over her.
Impatient and greedy. Like she was now.
She forced him to walk backward, and kept pushing, intent on the bedroom she'd never seen. She hadn't wanted to see where he slept. Just the thought of it evoked too many images she couldn't fight.
Didn't want to fight.
"The bed that way?" Her chin nudged the air toward the bedroom.
"Yeah, if we make it that far." As they moved, he opened her blouse, sliding his hand around her to unclasp her bra. The instant he touched her skin, he lost it, pressing her to the doorjamb and filling his hand with her soft rounded flesh.
She moaned and covered his hands. "Are we there yet?" she asked over the loss of air in her lungs.
Bryce chuckled darkly and bent, taking her nipple deep into his mouth.
A deep throaty growl came from the back of her throat, and he knew she was watching him. It made his groin tighten unbearably to know it and when he licked and suckled her tender skin, he was rewarded with the most incredible sound. Breathy gasps, lush moans and his name chanted. He reveled in the sounds, let them coat him, feed his desire. With his tongue he drew tight circles around her nipple until her skin was damp and she was clawing at his shoulders. His hands were no less busy, opening her jeans, pushing them down, pausing in the task to dip between her thighs and heighten her pleasure. She was wet and hot, and the knowledge sent impatience rocketing through him. He stroked her and she frantically shoved at her jeans herself, working them down to give him better access.
Then he sank to his knees.
He buried his face in her taut stomach, his fingertips digging into her buttocks and felt himself tremble with want. He dragged his tongue over her smooth flesh and for a fraction of a second, glanced up. She was watching him again, her lungs working for every breath, her hands running voraciously over his arms, his face. Eager, hungry, lovingly. She smiled like a cat.
He peeled her open and tasted her.
She cried out, the throaty sound spilling over him, and he drove deeply, pulling her leg over his shoulder. She rocked and he felt her pulsing, her delicious squirming. It nearly undid him. Then he thrust two fingers inside her and she came apart for him instantly, her body tightening, pawing with the sweet explosion.
He devoured her pleasure.
Ciara couldn't catch her breath, he wouldn't let her. She jerked and flexed, her muscles tense and then she was falling, bathed in fast heat and throbbing pleasure. He moaned and flicked his tongue and she shrieked his name. He smiled, dragging his mouth across her thigh, biting her flesh, tasting her lush body all the way up to her mouth.
She was on him in an instant, kissing him, clinging to him. "Hurry," she whispered against his lips, shoving his trousers down. He made her this way she thought. Always so wild and hungry for him, for the slice of heaven only he'd given her.
"We need protection." He edged toward the nightstand beside the four poster bed, yet refused to give up kissing her.
"Don't need it." Her blouse and bra hit the floor.
He hesitated.
"Trust me," she said, pulling him back.
Bryce stripped out of his trousers, and Ciara took her fill of looking at him. His body was still rock hard, ropy with muscle and she stepped close until her breasts were touching his chest. He was breathing hard, staring down at her. "I'm about to throw you on your back and go to town." She smiled and smoothed her hands over his chest, then lower, feeling his muscles jump beneath her touch.
"No patience?"
"None."
She bent and licked his nipple and his breath hissed out between clenched teeth as she played over and over. He gripped her waist, wanting more and thinking he couldn't get any harder. Then she wrapped her fingers around his arousal and he thought he'd explode.