“You had polite sex with Craig, because you thought you should. Sounds bloody awful,” he said. “I’ll make you a promise here and now that we are never having polite sex. Over my dead body.”
“You have to stop,” she pleaded, body arching beneath him, writhing against the mattress. Because her body knew what her mind didn’t want to admit. And he read her body perfectly.
God, he’d been watching her constantly for weeks now, learning her. Watching the way she touched herself, whether it was wrapping her arms around her chest or pushing back her hair. All the little expressions she made. She thought too much. Her diary confirmed it. Those other idiots she’d let touch her hadn’t been able to get her in the moment. Hadn’t really tried, or had lacked the patience. He wouldn’t make the same mistake.
“You’ve been pretty stressed lately. I think you need this,” he said, sounding far calmer than he felt. Her breathing sped up and he could see her pulse, beating hard in the side of her slender neck. That pulse point right there beneath the skin. Nothing could stop him from kissing her there, from pressing his lips lightly against it over and over. If anything had happened to her before he’d come along … No, he couldn’t afford to think like that. She was safe now and she’d stay safe. “I missed you yesterday. You have no idea how much.”
Her teeth sunk deep into her lip.
“You can trust me with this, Roslyn. Turn off that clever mind of yours and let me get you there.”
She shook her head furiously.
“Yes.”
Her body bucked beneath him, still fighting. Soft curves pushed at him, struggling to get free. She was insane to think this wouldn’t work between them. There was no hiding the flush working up her neck, the gasp when he nuzzled the sweet spot below her ear. He barely touched her and she lit up for him. Skin to skin, there’d be no end to what they could do.
“You feel so good. Even like this, with clothes between us,” he murmured.
Elbows knocked against his arms as she fought him.
“I’m not letting go. Fight me all you want.” He dragged his mouth over her jaw. With a gasp she jerked her head back, pressing it into the pillow, unintentionally presenting him with the sexiest ear in creation and more of the smooth sensitive skin of her neck beneath. He couldn’t get enough of her. Having her stretched out beneath him was amazing. A heavy petting session with this woman outdid anything that he’d done before.
He made circular motions with his hips, studying her face to gauge her reaction. Fuck, she was pretty. Her jaw dropped and her knees clenched at his sides, holding onto him despite herself.
“There we go,” he reassured her.
She made a small noise, a lot like a sob, and her chin wrinkled.
Shit, no. Tears was cheating. “Ros …”
“Fine! You can turn me on.” Shiny eyes stared back at him and two bright spots of color sat high on her cheeks. “You win. Happy now?”
It didn’t exactly feel like a win.
He stopped dead and held still, breathing hard. His dick throbbed unhappily. “Is me making you feel good so terrible?”
She nodded tightly and stared at the front doors, forehead scrunched up. He wanted to smooth the soft skin with his fingers. Comfort her. Only one thing, however, would make her feel better.
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
Nick placed a kiss on her neck. He took a deep breath and let her go straight to his head. Who knew when she’d let him get this close again.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll stop. Look at me, Roslyn.”
She hesitated, but he waited. This was, after all, a waiting game. One he intended to win.
Eventually she turned back to him with a wary look. “What?”
This time, when he kissed her, he did it slowly with his eyes wide open. Carefully he angled his head and lowered his lips to hers. He stopped once they were touching. She stared back at him, not moving an inch, face frowning but not turning away. Not rejecting him. Yet. Who knew why? It didn’t matter. He kissed her again and again, pressing his lips gently to hers and watching her all the while. It felt mildly religious or something. It felt important. He didn’t rub his dick against her. Not even a little, despite his balls aching like bloody murder. He wasn’t ruining this for anything.
She exhaled and her lips opened slightly. A tiny sigh escaped. Ideally he’d have her sighing in ecstasy, but this seemed closer to relief.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He kissed her again, just her bottom lip this time. Such a succulent bottom lip; he’d love to take a bite of her. The idea of biting had never occurred to him with other women, but Roslyn was special.
“I’m kissing you,” he said.
“Oh.” A frown flickered briefly across her face. At some stage she’d stopped scowling. Gradually her body relaxed beneath his. Hands no longer fought his hold. “I thought you were going to get off me.”
“Soon,” he agreed.
She gave him her curious face, her brows hunched in. “I’m not kissing you back.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her again. The side of her mouth, where top and bottom lip met. “I know.”
“Are you trying to prove another point?”
“No.” Lightly he brushed his lips over her cupid’s bow. “I’m just kissing you.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Mm.”
Restlessly her h*ps shifted against the bed, accidentally rubbing against him. His c**k pulsed, jabbing at the top of his sweatpants, wanting out. Or, more accurately, wanting in. God help him. What a ridiculous situation. He choked back a laugh. Fact was, he could probably come just from kissing her. It would take longer. But it could be done.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I was laughing at myself.”
The woman tucked her chin in, drawing back from his wandering mouth. “Why?”
“You know, I’ve met two-year-olds who ask fewer questions than you.”
“You had kids?”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t have kids. Never been married, either.”
She digested this information with a slow nod. No smartass comment was made.
“We could get married,” he suggested with a smile.
“We are not getting married. Don’t be stupid.” Her scowl deepened. “Why were you laughing at yourself?”
“Well.” He sighed and leant in, brushed his nose against hers. “I was thinking I could come just from kissing you. Wanna give it a go?”