“Sterile, yes. And I am.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. And she finally gets brave enough to look up at me. Her eyes widen and I feel a stirring in my belly. For so long I’ve held back with her. I will still have to hold back a bit, because she’s not yet ready for it all. But there are things I can and will do tonight. Starting with seeing every bit of her skin. I glance over her mouth, at the freckle at the corner of her lips.
“Anna . . .”
“Hmm?” Her voice goes high. She clears her throat.
“Remember when I told you I wanted to introduce myself to every freckle on your body?”
She nods slowly.
“Well, it’s time.”
Her cheeks bloom with color. I close my eyes as a warm wave of pears and freesia permeates the air. “You smell so damn good.”
Though this moment feels long overdue, I know neither of us was truly ready until this night. This is how it was meant to be for us.
I take her hand and lead her back into the main room. I want to put on music, but mine’s a bit dark. I dig through the bag from Marna and stare down at the music player she sent.
“Marna downloaded mood music as a gift,” I mutter. “I’m a bit frightened.”
Anna giggles at my apprehension. I set up the dock and turn it on. Sure enough, the first song is twangy.
“Country music?” Since when does Marna listen to this?
“I love this song!” Anna says, and I groan. Of course she does, Georgia girl. And I suppose it’s not that terrible. But still. Who knows what the rest of this playlist will bring.
“Maybe we should listen to my playlist instead.” I reach for my device.
Anna gives her head a shake and takes a bold step toward me. “Come on, Kai . . . my freckles are getting impatient.”
Bloody hell . . . did my little vixen just tell me to hurry up? I forget all about the playlist. I advance toward her, wondering if she has any clue what she’s sparked in me.
My freckles are getting impatient. . . .
“Well, then,” I say. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
I’m standing in front of her now and her chest is rising and falling rapidly.
Take it easy, mate. I’ve waited too long to rush. I slip my hand under her hair and tilt her face up to mine. Her eyes close and I taste her lips. Softly at first, taking her bottom lip between mine and then seeking her tongue with a gentle swipe of my own. As our mouths tangle and play, I walk forward and she walks backward until we’re stopped by the bed.
I need the dress off, now. I begin gathering it between my fingers, working it upward until the hem is in my hands. She lets me raise it over her head, and she’s standing before me in her bra and silk underwear. Her eyes are still nervous, but she moves for my shirt and I raise my arms for her to pull it over my head.
I swish the hair from my eyes, then feel her hands on the buckle of my shorts. I take her hands away, saying, “Not yet.” It’s been so long that I don’t want to test my self-control. Right now, I need to see all of her. I slowly reach behind and flick open the clasp of her white strapless bra. As it falls, she covers her chest.
“They’re . . .” She bites her lip and looks down.
I place my hands over hers. “I assure you, they’re perfect.” I gently pry her hands away and look down at Anna, exposed before me.
My breath hitches like I’m a lad. I have to close my eyes and gather my wits before I can look at her again. Every curve, peak, and valley . . . I can’t believe she’s mine. All mine.
“Like I said,” I grit out. “Just right. On the bed with you now.”
She obeys and I know she’ll do anything I say right now, because she trusts me, she wants me. It fills me with a masculine pride that makes me want to roar. I lie next to her on the bed and force her to stay on her back while I peruse every inch of her skin. Each time she attempts to touch me or pull me, or move closer, I stop her. It’s driving her mad, and the delicious power rush makes me want to go even slower.
Shoulders, collarbones, breasts—she lets me kiss her and taste her and learn her—waist, belly button, hips, stomach, every inch of her as smooth and sweet as the next. She squirms and groans, grabbing sensually at my hair. When I get to her panty line, and go lower, down to her thighs, she lifts her hips and I firmly push them back down.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Not yet.”
I know what she needs, and I know I can make it even better by building that need within her, just as my own is building. I flip her to her stomach and start at the top of her body again, moving her hair aside so I can kiss her upper back. She gasps and cries out when I get to the base of her spine. I smile to myself, having found one of her zones. And when I get to her arse—the most perfect, round bit of flesh to ever exist—I nearly lose my head and rip the tiny piece of lace from her body. A low rumble emits from my chest.
Anna takes advantage, saying, “Take them off.” I am too lost to drag this out a moment longer. I sit up and pull the knickers down her smooth legs. What’s left before me is my sexy little Anna’s backside, completely naked.
“My God,” I whisper. She’s more perfect than I imagined, and I imagined this a lot.
Anna turns over and I soak in the front image of her. . . .
Heaven.
She reaches for my shorts, but I grasp her hand and gently bite her naughty finger.
“I’m not done yet.”
She falls back with a moan as I make my way straight to her lower stomach again, this time with no barrier of fabric to block me. I kiss down her inner thigh, and Anna’s breathing goes ragged. I kiss her again, right where she needs, and my sight shatters into a myriad of white shards.