Page 162 of Holding On To Good

And still Urban kept tormenting her with his too light touches. His husky voice.

Give me what I want.

She wanted to. Wasn’t that the problem? She wanted to give him the same thing he’d promised to give her.

Anything.

Everything.

As always, though, something held her back. Fear. Pride.

The realization that by giving him even the smallest piece of herself, she’d be risking something she couldn’t afford to lose.

But her fear was no match for the tangle of lust and need twisting through her body. Her pride easily broken by Urban’s unending patience and slow, sure touch.

The risk of future pain and heartbreak a minimal, distant worry compared to the possible reward of the way Urban could make her feel right now.

Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra. Let it drop to the floor.

His eyes flared with heat.

With triumph.

It was that triumph that should have concerned her. At the very least, irritated her.

Instead it made her hotter.

Especially when he grunted, “Good girl,” then bent his head and licked one beaded nipple.

She arched into him, stabbing her fingers into his hair to hold him there, right there, while he played with her nipple, tracing it with his tongue, lightly scraping it with his teeth. One hand cupped her other breast, his thumb strumming that nipple into a hard, aching peak, the other hand still with those feathery touches at her center.

Well, she was discovering all sorts of new things here. Things she’d always wondered, such as how Urban would look when she was on her knees pleasuring him. How he’d taste. The sounds he’d make and the way he’d watch her.

Things she’d never known about herself, such as that the idea of having sex while others were outside the room intrigued her. That she was into Urban telling her what to do in that low, husky tone.

That she really, really liked it when he’d told her she was a good girl.

That one had surprised her the most. She wasn’t submissive—not in life or during sex. But with Urban, it was easy to share control.

A little too easy to give that control over to him.

Because she trusted him. Totally. Completely.

And because he gave that control back to her when she asked for it.

Another thing she’d learned?

Urban was a giant clit tease.

Literally.

She wiggled against him, but his touch gentled even more.

Bastard.

Her fingers, however, tightened in his hair. “Urban…”

He lifted his head. Blew on her wet nipple. “Tell me what you want.”

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