Page 53 of Crazy for You

“Get lost, Smokey,” she said, shooing the cat with her hands. It glared at her and slunk off into her closet. Emma pulled the bottle of chocolate syrup out of the bag, squirted some onto her finger, and sucked it into her mouth.

His dick surged against his zipper. “Strip.”

Her eyes widened. She set the bottle on the table beside her bed then reached down and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt. With a little smile, she eased it down over her hips, revealing white, lacy panties. It was all he could do not to put his hands on her, but watching her undress herself was its own form of foreplay.

She dropped her skirt to the floor then slowly lifted her top over her head, leaving her in nothing but panties, and, fuck, she was stunning. That tattoo…

She wiggled out of her panties, and then, completely naked, she sat on the edge of her bed, crossing one leg over the other. “Your turn.” She pointed a finger at him. “Strip.”

He shucked his clothes in record time, his dick growing even harder beneath her heated gaze. As he watched, she pushed the comforter off the end of the bed and beckoned for him to join her. He slid onto the bed beside her, his thigh skimming hers, and that contact alone was enough to make his pulse pound.

Emma reached for the bottle of chocolate syrup, a wicked smile on her face. She pushed him down flat on the bed and drizzled sauce across his chest, stopping just short of his dick.

He sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck. Maybe we should have warmed it up first.”

Her mouth formed a sexy little O. “Cold?”

Yes, but indescribably hot at the same time. “Not anymore.”

“I’ll warm you up,” she said, and bent her head. Her tongue swirled across his chest, licking at the sauce. Holy fucking shit. He fisted his hands in the sheets and squeezed his eyes shut. By the time she’d reached his belly button, he was done for.

He sat up, flipping the tables before she took him past the point of no return.

“My turn.” He reached for the bottle.

Emma lay back, her cheeks already flushed, her breathing rapid. He trailed syrup over her breasts and stomach, making her squirm. “Okay, you’re right. It’s cold.”

He kissed her breast, then tugged her nipple between his teeth and gave it a slight nip. Emma lurched beneath him, her hips arching up to meet his. He took his time sucking all the chocolate from her breasts. At some point, he dipped his hand between her legs, stroking her as he followed the chocolate trail across her body.

Emma writhed beneath him, her hips pushing against his hand. He gave her the pressure that she needed, sliding two fingers inside her as he went.

He kissed his way down her belly, and she arched up off the bed. “Ryan?—”

“Go ahead, baby,” he murmured. “Come for me.”

And she did. Her hips bucked against his hand, and the expression on her face as she came was so fucking gorgeous. He pressed himself against her, letting her pleasure fuel the need already pounding in his dick.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“That was hot.”

She rolled over, squirted chocolate syrup onto her palms, and wrapped her hands around his dick. “You know? I think I’m a fan of chocolate sauce.”

He groaned. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

Emma lay in bed, a little bit chocolatey and a whole lot satisfied. “That was amazing.”

“As good as what you read about in romance novels?” Ryan asked, an oddly serious look on his face.

“What?” Where in the world did that question come from?

“You told me that day at Off-the-Grid,” he said. “You wanted the kind of sex you’d read about in romance novels.”

Ooh. Yes, she did remember saying that. At the time, she’d mainly been trying to push his buttons, but it was true, too. She’d wanted the kind of toe-curling, mind-blowing sex she’d read about and hadn’t been sure was possible in real life. Was this why he’d shown up with champagne and gooey accessories? If so, that was…well, it was adorable. And also maybe the most romantic and thoughtful thing a man had ever done for her. Oh, her heart… “Actually, I think we crossed that one off in Charlotte. You’ve got nothing to worry about in that department.”

He smiled, his expression softening. “Good to know. Shower?”

“That’s a definite yes.” She was a sticky mess, and he probably was, too. She slid out of bed and led the way into the bathroom. “How long do I have to take these quickie, lukewarm showers?”

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