Page 38 of Mastered By Desire

Arousal pools in my lower belly, throbbing and insistent. I want more. Ineedmore. And him, specifically. This man I’ve always looked up to. The one I would trust, one hundred percent, not to hurt me.

His hand smells clean. His gray eyes are focused on me—only me. I am the center of his world right now, and I’d give anything to be closer to him.

When he lets go and strokes my face, I can’t take it anymore. I turn to him. “I?—”

I can’t talk—the panties are still in my mouth, soaked from my saliva.

He pulls them free. “Are you okay, Leah?”

“Yes, I—I need—” I suck in a deep breath. Reaching over, I set my hand on his knee, feel his muscles through his jeans. He doesn’t reject my touch. It gives me courage.

I twist to the side, stroke the strong line of his jaw, and tug him toward me for a kiss.

His lips are soft yet firm. They flutter against mine like a butterfly’s wings before he locks his mouth against mine.

The kiss is a claim. A pronouncement.You are mine,it says.I am yours.

He sweeps his tongue over the seam of my lips. I part them, inviting him in.

He tastes fresh and clean, like mint. I tease his tongue with mine, remembering how I sucked another, larger part of him at the club.

More,more. I need more.

I break the kiss but keep my hand on his face. “I need you.”

Hesitance flashes in his gray eyes. But it’s brief, quickly replaced with determination.

“To be clear,” he says, his voice raspy and low, “how far do you want to go? What do you want, Leah?”

“Everything,” I say, unable to keep the high note of need from my voice. “Please.”

He leans over, lowering me to lie back on the couch. “You sure about this, Leah?”

“So sure,” I say.

“You want me to fuck you?”

I’ll die if he doesn’t. “Yes.”

He runs his hands beneath my shirt, touching my bare skin. I’m not wearing a bra, but he doesn’t go straight for my boobs—he caresses the sensitive skin beneath them, his fingertips hot and searching.

He stares into my eyes. “I’ve been thinking about this since the auction.”

“Me, too.” Before the auction, really.

And it’s finally freaking happening.

Is this a dream? I tilt my head toward him, hoping he’ll kiss me again.

He groans into my mouth, grinds against my legs. His tongue tangles with mine. I lift the hem of his tee, my fingers sliding along his heated skin.

“Clothes off?” I suggest.

He nods, tearing himself away from me. He reaches for my shirt at the same time I reach for my pants, and our arms tangle at cross-purposes. Laughing, I lift up my arms and let him have his way.

As soon as my shirt is up and over my head, he pauses. His eyes are the gray of a thunderstorm as he looks at my naked chest.

“I didn’t say this the other night,” he says, his voice reverent, “but you’re beautiful, Leah. So goddamn fucking sexy, too.”

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