Page 66 of Going All In

He sat back and pulled her to sitting. “Should I do the honors?” he asked.

She snorted softly and then whipped her—his—jersey off, taking another shirt with it so she was left in her bra. Her light green eyes flashed fire when he trailed his fingertip along the silky edge, his thumbnail grazing over her hard nipple.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the pale skin above her bra, and she sucked in a breath. He needed to taste her. Reaching behind her back, he popped the clasp, and she wasted no time, pushing the straps down her arms and tossing the material over his shoulder to the floor.

But instead of diving in, he pushed her back on the bed and leaned over her, trailing his fingers over her fevered skin, watching her body twitch as he drifted close to one nipple and then the other.

“Stop stalling,” she rasped out, and tugged his arm.

He managed to catch himself with his other hand before he could faceplant into her breasts and crush her.

“So demanding,” he teased, scraping his thumb over one nipple before he finally lowered his head and took one pebbled peak into his mouth.

“About time,” she murmured and then gasped when he swirled his tongue around the tip. Her hands were in his hair again, tugging him, and he groaned against her breast.

He administered the same torture to her other breast before he kissed down her body, shifting on the bed until he reached the waistband of her jeans. He kneeled in front of the bed and slowly dragged her zipper down.

She lifted up onto her elbows and watched him, her eyes filled with desire, her lips wet from their kisses. She lifted her hips, and he pulled her pants down her legs, leaving her in just her underwear.

He dipped a finger into her heat.

“Fucking hell, you’re wet,” he groaned.

“What else would I be after your extended torture?” she said, humor and need lacing her tone.

“You’re not what I expected.”

“That’s not something you should tell a woman who’s almost completely naked in front of you,” she said with a smirk.

She gasped when he nipped the inside of her thigh. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“How about less talking and more moaning?”

He couldn’t stop his laugh. He enjoyed making out and fucking, but Darcy was different from any other woman he’d been with. It was refreshing, and he wanted more of everything.

He refused to think about what that could possibly mean aside from kissing her until she couldn’t think straight and sinking into her body until he had no idea where she started and he ended.

“With pleasure,” he said, hooking his fingers into the edges of her underwear and pulling them down her legs.

She shifted around and shook a leg until they fell to the floor. He would not laugh at how much fun this was.

“Better?” he asked.

“We’ll see,” she taunted, reaching for him.

She was going to be the death of him.

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