Page 77 of Wed to You

He used both hands on her breasts as he pressed his hips forward. His erection strained against his pants and he cursed that he still had them on. She still held his gaze, filling the room with an erotic charge he felt straight to his groin, growing harder still. He felt like he was going to expand right out of his skin. He considered pushing her forward over the dresser, ripping his pants open, and taking her, but from somewhere deep, he resisted the urge.

“Do I look disappointed?” He hoped to hell she didn’t translate the desperate need shadowing his features as disappointment.

“No.”

“Do you doubt that I want you?”

“No. Jagger, please.” She tried to turn, but he held her still. “Don’t tease me.”

“If I wanted, would you let me have you here? Like this?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, realizing that while she thought she wasn’t well versed in bedroom games, she was certainly open to learning. Because her need echoed his, he decided to give her more.

He released one breast, letting his hand slide down. Her stomach quivered under his touch. Her hips ground back against him, nearly making him forget the lesson he was trying to teach her. With a quick inhale, and hopefully resolve, he continued his quest. His fingers slid down through the auburn curls at the apex of her thighs.

She let out a moan of anticipation, her eyes closing.

“Watch, Chelsea. Watch what I do to you.”

“Oh, God.” She forced her eyes open, watching as his fingers slid between her folds. Her body jerked at his touch, her hips pressing back against him. This time she wrangled a groan from him.

Her brown eyes, dark with desire, held his gaze, as he stroked her, focusing on the hard nub between her thighs. Jesus, it was hot and sexy, and it was all he could do to not take her. But that was the point, wasn’t it? For her to see how crazy with need she made him.

“Jagger!” Her words came out on a gust. Her hands gripped the dresser and her knees buckled, so he tightened his grip around her waist.

Her head dropped forward, as she bit her lip.

“Don’t hold back. Let it out, Chels. Watch how I make you come.”

He didn’t think she would, as she was lost in the throes of passion, but her gaze lifted and caught his, and the fire and need burning in her eyes nearly undid him. She cried out, her hips gyrating against him, and he nearly let go himself. Gritting his teeth to help him stave off his need, he focused on her: her cries of pleasure, the way her sex worked the last bit of her pleasure from his fingers, the way her eyes gave him everything he wanted and more.

When her body went limp, he was unable to hold off any longer. He picked her up and brought her to the bed. Done were control and finesse. Now he just had to have her. To relieve the pressure that threatened to destroy him. If it weren’t for these damn clothes.

“I want a turn.” She pushed at him. At first, he couldn’t hear her through the roar of desire pulsing in his brain. She was petite, but strong, and was able to knock him off balance and onto his back. “I want a turn.”

Her brown eyes stared down at him with hunger. “I haven’t even seen you yet.” Now she was in control, as if he’d unleashed something in her. He’d known there was passion buried inside her. He’d felt it in that first kiss at the park. The few times she’d nearly given into her desire. Finally, now she was letting herself go. The switch in her forced him to rein in his need to find out what she’d do.

She straddled his thighs and her fingers, more steady than he felt, undid the buttons of his shirt, pushing it aside. Her gaze raked over his chest, followed by the whispery tips of her fingers. His entire body shivered at her touch. She stopped and sat back.

No, no, don’t stop.

“What’s this?” She pushed his shirt open all the way and undid his pants, pushing them down. But she wasn’t focused on his erection, which was painfully bobbing and in need of attention.

He glanced to where she was looking. “It’s a tattoo.” He reached for her, but she pushed his hands away.

Her fingers traced the outline and he had a moment to wonder whether she liked it.

“Is it a phoenix?”

“Yes.” Still unable to decipher her reaction, his libido calmed.

She studied the colorful markings like she’d never seen anything like it before. Her head lifted, her gaze capturing his. “It fits your name.”

Maybe the sex hormones were addling his brain, because he had no clue what she was saying.

“Jaggers have tattoos. Usually they ride motorcycles and wear leather jackets, too.”

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