Page 110 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

“I’m trying,” I grumble, “but you’re driving me insane.”

He gives a satisfied laugh that’s a bit too smug for my liking, so I slide a hand down his front to his jeans. Deftly, I flick open the button there, then, discovering that he already has an erection, I ease the zipper carefully down over it, letting the tiger out of its cage.

He grunts as it strains forward in the black boxer-briefs, then sighs when I stroke him through the cotton. It’s the first time I’ve touched him like this, and a little shyly, I explore the shape and feel of him through the fabric, sliding my fingers over the swollen head, the bumps and ridges and veins along the shaft.

After about a minute of this, he rests his forehead against mine for a moment.

“Okay, sweetheart?” I ask, slipping a hand to the back of his neck and stroking the short hair there.

He huffs a little sigh. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Aw.”

“I’m trying to take it easy.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

He lifts his head and looks at me. “I don’t want to hurt or frighten you.”

“You couldn’t, Linc.”

His brow furrows. I think he’s about to argue with me, but instead he just takes the hem of my top in his hands and gestures for me to lift my arms. Ooh, I appear to have flipped a switch. He peels the top up and over my head and tosses it away, then grabs a handful of his own at the back of his neck and rips it off. Then he lifts up and pushes me onto my back, and lies on top of me, pressing me into the mattress.

Mmm, he’s deliciously heavy. He looks down at me, his mouth just an inch from mine, and moves his hips a little so his erection is pressing between my legs through his jeans.

“You want me to stop, you just tell me,” he says, his voice husky. When I nod, he says, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.” He bends his head and kisses me.

He continues to kiss me for a long time, occasionally moving his hips and thrusting his hard length through my soft flesh, making me groan. After a while, he slides a hand to my bra, takes the stretchy cup in his fingers, lifts it, and tucks it under my breast before moving down to take my nipple in his mouth. He does the same the other side, exposing both breasts to his tongue, and that turns me to caramel inside.

“Linc,” I murmur, squirming beneath him, “please…”

He lifts his head and looks down at me. The setting sun has bathed the room in light the color of butterscotch, and it makes me think of him saying he has the Midas Touch, with a nose for gold.

He moves off me and removes his jeans and boxers, then retrieves a condom while I take off the rest of my clothes. By the time I lie back down, he’s opened the packet and rolled the condom on, and he moves between my legs, pushing my knees up a little.

My heart is racing, but I remain outwardly calm. I watch as, leaning on one hand, with the other he guides the tip of his erection down, brushing through my folds, until he presses against my entrance.

Then he lowers down and studies my face.

“All right, baby?” he asks.

I nod. Then, mischievously, I lift my hands to his chest and circle my forefingers over his nipples. I meet his eyes, not stopping, and watch as he lifts an eyebrow.

Then, lightly, I give them a pinch.

“Ow.” He gives me a wry look, but it’s full of affection. “Breathe in,” he instructs.

I take a deep breath.

“Breathe out.”

I exhale. As I do so, he pushes his hips forward. Slowly, he slides about halfway into me. He pauses and waits for me to adjust, moves back, then slides in again. This time, he goes all the way in, so his hips are flush with the back of my thighs.

He closes his eyes, and I watch him enjoying just being inside me, reveling in the sensation of stretching and filling me.

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