Page 14 of Surge of Heat

He circles around to the front of me. “You okay?”

It takes me a minute, but I manage a nod.

Grasping my chin, he tilts me up to look at him. “Are you sure?”

I can’t manage to smile, but I say, “I’m just really nervous.”

He frowns. “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s me. You know me.”

“N-not like this.”

He studies me for another long minute and then says, “Let’s start slow. Strip down to your bra and underwear.”

“How is that slow?” I ask, feeling my eyes widen.

“Just trust me,” he says.

So, I do what he said, even though my hands are shaking as I undress. When I’m done, my gaze finds his again. He’s watching me, but he stiffens when our eyes meet. Then he pulls off his shirt and goes for his pants. My mouth goes dry. Aydan is a beautiful man. Every inch of him. Evander felt like all hard edges and straight lines. Aydan is different. He’s not as rough-looking, more stunning, like a male model. His beauty is the kind that’s hard to look at without gawking.

My eyes trace the muscular lines of his big arms, his chest, his six pack. But I can’t stop there. My gaze runs over his powerful thighs and strong legs, and then slides back to the delicious bulge in his boxers. I remember that bulge in my hands as I was stroking him. He was hard, like iron covered in velvet. My only regret is that I haven’t felt him inside of me… yet.

Standing before me in only his boxers, the front of the fabric tents, and I realize he’s turned on. My gaze snaps back to his face, and I realize he’s watching me through hooded eyes. There’s something so powerful and possessive in his gaze that it takes my breath away.

“Lay down,” he commands.

I take a step back. “I thought we were going to take things slow.”

“We are. Now, lay down on your stomach.”

I hesitate, asking myself how much I trust Aydan. But the answer comes easily. I trust him with my life. He would never hurt me. That’s one thing I don’t have with Evander: trust.

Laying down on my belly, I don’t know what to do when the mattress shifts with Aydan’s weight. His hands push my hair away from my back, and then find my shoulders. Instantly, his hands begin to rub my shoulders and neck, and it’s hard to catch my breath, it feels so good.

Aydan must have done this a thousand times before, because he knows just where my muscles ache, just the places that I’m tense. His nimble hands rub away all the stress and anxiety of the past few days, and I melt into the mattress. When his hands slide down my back, working my lower back, I’m too content to care. Everywhere he touches, it feels like magic.

It only takes a few minutes before he begins to work my feet, then my legs, then my thighs. Something changes. There’s something in the air that’s impossible to see. I’m relaxed, and yet, I’m not. Every stroke of his hands that reaches higher between my thighs has me purring for more.

“How does this feel?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

“Good,” I manage.

He continues his careful massage until his hands begin to brush the space between my legs. Instinctively, I spread my legs just a little wider, and he continues to brush me lightly. Finally, his hand stops at my core. It lingers, warm and big.

“What if I touched you here? Would that be okay?”

My voice trembles when I answer. “Yes.”

Slowly, he pushes my underwear to the side and begins to stroke the outside of my pussy, sending little bolts of excitementshooting through me. I’m aching, wet as fuck, and pressing myself against him, when one of his fingers slides inside.

“Oh, you’re so wet. Do you like what I’m doing?”

My body is shaking. “Yes.”

“Yes, you do,” he murmurs under his breath, using that finger to touch and tease.

When he touches my clit, I jump a little as pleasure ripples through me. I’m breathing hard, unable to catch my breath.

“Well, that’s a nice spot,” he whispers, coming back to my clit and rubbing it while I try not to climb out of my skin.

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