Page 100 of Holding On To Good

There was no hesitancy, no uncertainty or nerves like the barely-there kiss he’d given her last night.

This was a seduction.

Urban’s mouth moved over hers in a slow, sensual rhythm that seeped into her veins like a drug. Had her limbs growing heavy. Her head light.

It was a possession.

He was relentless, deepening the kiss by slow, steady degrees, the light scratchiness of his beard a delicious contrast to the silky glide of his tongue.

It was a conquest.

She opened her mouth and he made a low, guttural sound of triumph as he swept his tongue inside.

Oh, God, the man knew how to kiss. She’d dreamed of this for so long, had fantasized about it since she was a teen, but nothing in her wild imagination had come close to this reality.

She was overwhelmed with sensations—surrounded by his scent and the heat emanating from his body and the feel of his lips on hers. The need to touch him, to slide her hands up his chest, to thread her fingers in his hair, to press against him—thighs, hips, belly and chest—threatened to overtake her.

It was all too much. This single kiss. But when she held back, when she denied him her tongue, he punished her with nibbling bites and long, slow licks, tempting and teasing until she was the one chasing his tongue, seeking the taste of him.

And when she had it, she realized she’d been one hundred percent, completely and totally wrong.

There was nothing harmless about this kiss.

Urban pressed his palms against the wall so hard, he was surprised his fingers didn’t tear into the sheetrock. His arms trembled. His entire body ached from being kept so still, but he was afraid to move. He’d worked damned hard to get this kiss—this one kiss. Had waited a hell of a long time for it. The last thing he was going to do was blow it before he’d had his fill.

But he was holding on to his control by a thread. A ragged one that grew tauter with every inhale of Willow’s clean, light scent. One that frayed even more every time her tongue touched his. One that got thinner when he captured her moan, the long, low sound vibrating his lips.

Even the slightest twitch would have that thread tearing clean in two. So he couldn’t do what he wanted, not all of it. He couldn’t set his hands on her waist and pull her closer. Couldn’t slide his hand into her short, silky hair. Couldn’t close the distance between them, insert his thigh between her legs and press his aching cock against her hip.

He couldn’t touch her like he wanted, like he’d been craving for half his life.

All he could do was kiss her. Again and again and again. His tongue plunging in and out, mimicking in the most basic, crudest way, how he wanted to fuck her.

But she didn’t shove at him. Didn’t knee him in the balls or tear her mouth away.

She kissed him back. Deep, wet kisses that matched his own hunger.

That fueled it.

He prolonged the kiss until he was trembling with need, his cock hard and heavy, his chest tight and burning. But it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him.

Wasn’t enough to prove his point that one kiss would never be enough. Not for either of them.

He edged closer, keeping a hairsbreadth of space between them. The way she kissed him, how her body hummed with desire, made it clear he wasn’t in this alone. All it would take was one touch—his or hers—to fan the flames between them out of control.

He could have Willow. Here. Now.

But he didn’t want her succumbing to an inferno. Overcome by the heat.

He wanted her lit from within. He wanted her to become the flame.

He wanted her to burn. For him. Only for him.

He gentled the kiss. Slowed it, his lips clinging to hers, his tongue taking long, delicious swipes, tracing the corners of her lush mouth. Stroking the inside of her bottom lip. He kept kissing her, long and leisurely, until her moans turned into whimpers. Until she no longer vibrated with lust but quivered with need.

Then he forced himself to slowly drag his hands down the wall, outlining her body as he eased back and straightened.

They stared at each other. She remained pressed against the wall, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. Her eyes wide and stunned. Her mouth parted, her lips red and puffy, the delicate skin around them pink from his beard.

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