Page 100 of The Trouble with Anna

“I thought this would be scary.” She suddenly felt unbearably smug. “I didn’t know it would be… my god, this is fun.”

He gave her a swift kiss of approval.

“I’m not going to scare you. I’m going to adore you. With myhands, and my lips, and my body, and my cock. And if anything doesn’t feel right—if it doesn’t feel perfect—then you will tell me and I’ll adore you in a different way, until you can’t think of anything but what you want, how you want it, how I’m going to give it to you, over and over again.”

Anna blinked. “But what do you want?”

His eyes flared. “You. Now. All over me.”

“Yes, please.” She wanted to wind herself around him like a mink.

He unbuttoned the falls of his breeches, swallowing with relief as they opened.

Anna’s eyes went huge. “Let me see.”

He pushed back from the bed, shoved his breeches over his hips, and stood proud and naked in front of her.

His stomach was a flat plane, his cock hard and heavy. It both drew her eyes and sent them skittering away.

“Oh,” she said. It was all she could manage. Her bones had gone soft, her body was liquid.

Julian joined her on the bed and lowered himself toward her, pulling her arm up around his shoulder, shuddering with pleasure as her bare skin touched his.

Anna traced his muscles, her fingertips betraying her. They whispered to him, worshiped him, spoke all the little words that were too dangerous to say out loud.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Her legs said it as they twined around his, adoring the rough rasp of his hair. Her teeth said it with a thousand frantic nips. Her heart, pounding in her chest, drummed out the words. Her lips kissed it into his neck, against his mouth, against the line of his jaw.

He pulled her drawers down and she lifted her hips, too focused on the heavy pull of his mouth on her breast, the slow rasp of his chin against her skin, to notice she was fully naked now.

But Julian noticed. He pushed back onto his elbow and stared.

“It wrecks me to see you like this. I won’t ever be the same.” His teeth tugged gently at the lobe of her ear. “If you could see the way you’re looking at me. I can see every thought, every feeling—no, don’t look away. I can’t bear to miss a thing.” His arms were like iron around her. “I’ve wanted you here for so long. I thought I’d ruined it, but you’re here.You’re here now.”

He licked her nipple and she gasped, the sound encouraging him to lick down farther, along the middle of her stomach, twisting her to nuzzle against the sensitive skin of her sides and feather his breath over the flare of her hips.

Each place he touched lit up in response, a million little fires that fed the aching flame inside and made her rock and stretch to press against him.

Her body was begging. She panted and gasped, and his mouth curved at every sound.

He opened her legs, dipped his head, and licked her slow and rough.

Anna bucked off the bed.

“Julian!”

“Yes?” The scoundrel. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Anna collapsed against the pillow. “Carry on.”

He laughed, lowered his head—his breath a terrible, feather-light tease—and started to suck. Anna’s toes curled, but the honey ache only got stronger. Her body felt unbearably sweet, liquid and swollen, and she shivered and curled under the wave of glowing heat he built with his tongue.

“You taste so damn perfect,” he muttered roughly. He couldn’t seem to get enough.

The ache inside started to contract and pulse, like a light brightening and intensifying. Molten gold shivered down from her swollen lips, along her neck, over her breasts to shimmer deep in her belly.

“Julian!?!” she cried.

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