Page 39 of Dining for Love

His lips travel lower, locking onto a nipple and making me surge upward. “Oh God,” I choke out.

One hand grips my ass as the other holds me against him. “Take what you want, baby,” he commands, then swirls his tongue over my nipple.

I mewl, sounding far too much like Midnight for my own comfort, but I can’t stop myself. Then Reid surges upright, taking me with him in a smooth motion that has me on my back on the couch and him crouching between my legs.

“Let me taste you, Willa. Can I do that?”

All I can do is stare. He’s asking permission? Obviously, the answer is yes. Only I can’t manage to make my voice work because when I try, all I do is squeak.

He smiles, those damn dimples popping and his eyes twinkling. “Is that a yes?”

I’m going to pass out. Just poof: Pass right the fuck out. But I keep my shit together long enough to shake my head vigorously. “Y-yes,” I say, only it’s more of a hoarse whisper.

He starts to slide down me.

“Wait!”

He stops and looks up.

“I need—” I scoot up, forcing him back on his haunches. “I need to see you.”

His smile broadens. “Whatever you want, Willa. Take your time.”

And so for one glorious minute—or five, I have no idea—I take my fill of him. He’s…stunning. Darkly tanned skin that’s taut with muscles upon muscles. He’s fit, but not bulky. There’s at least one tattoo, no, two, that deserve closer inspection when I’m not out of my head with disbelief that he’s between my legs, waiting on me to give him the green light. Ignoring the bit of gauze taped over what I know must be where he was shot, I run myhands over his chest, watching his expression as I do so, trying to gauge what he might like.

“Like you mean it,” he says, putting his hands over mine and pressing them onto his chest. “Touch me like you mean it.”

His muscles flex beneath my touch, and when I lick my lips, his eyes follow the movement hungrily.

“Need your skin,” he mutters, bending back over to kiss me. “Need every bit of your sweet taste, Willa.”

He claims my mouth over and over, his hips canting into mine relentlessly, pulsing slowly, and I’m nearly out of my head with desire. “Reid,” I whisper.

“Now, can I taste you?” he asks. “I want to make you feel good.”

I nod, and he flashes a dazzling smile before sliding down the couch.

He rises and tucks his thumbs beneath the waist of my sleep shorts, a final question in his expression. I nod, and he peels them down, then swears. “No panties?”

“I don’t wear them to bed, and then you came by, and I never…” I trail off. “Probably should have put real clothes on. Guess that was rude of me.”

He rips his gaze away from where he’s been transfixed and meets my eyes. “Sweetheart, it was the farthest thing from rude. It was a goddamn gift.”

Then he descends, sliding most of his body off the couch to settle his face between my thighs. He breathes in, then swears again, this time more softly. “Gorgeous.”

I’m holding my breath, and it’s only when his lips press onto my pubic bone that it leaves me in a rush. “F-f-fuck,” I choke out.

“You have no idea, Willa,” he groans. “You’re soaked.”

“Of course I am,” I retort, squirming under his inspection. “Look at you.”

He huffs a laugh, the breath of it hitting my over-sensitizedflesh. “No, sweetheart. It’s all you.” And with that, he presses his mouth to me, and I buck against him.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I say, trying to be still.

He sucks at me lazily, his tongue swirling and licking as if he’s got all the time in the world. One hand trails up my bent leg while his other gently guides me to spread for him. “Don’t hold back, Willa. Don’t you dare.”

Well.

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