Page 26 of Saving Jared

"You’re not saying anything."

What was he supposed to say? Yelling mine at the top of his lungs would only bring the whole house down around them. Though loosening his hold to keep from leaving marks on her body might be something he should do. But he couldn’t. Didn’t want to. He wanted marks on her.

His marks.

Her hands at his wrists sent slack. "I understand. You—"

"Willa," he growled out as he spun her around and pulled her in tight.

He hadn’t expected the possessiveness—nor the denial she might walk away from this—from them—that filled him as he swallowed the gasp parting her lips. He crushed her close and groaned at the press of her bare breasts against his chest.

How could she think he would turn her away? If anything, it fed his desire knowing she had never shared herself with another man. But he needed to slow down.

God, he was going to be her first.

And her last…

He pushed that fleeting thought aside and forced himself to gentle his hold. But he needed her in his bed.

Now.

So, he lifted her off her feet, cradling her in his arms, then carried her to his rumpled sheets. He carefully laid her down but could barely make her out in the darkness.

And he needed to see her.

He reached out toward his beside lamp, his fingers unerringly finding the switch. Light flooded over the bed, showing him what he’d been missing.

She looked right in his bed.

Perfect.

His hungry gaze roamed over every inch of her in stunned reverence, while his hand dropped from the lamp to the top of his nightstand—his gaze once more meeting hers—before it slid down to the drawer handle and opened it.

He liked how her brow crinkled as her gaze darted to his hand, then hid a smile at her, "Oh," as he pulled a condom from the drawer and set it on the wooden surface.

"Willa," he whispered. Her wide, need-filled eyes met his before lowering to where his hand coasted over the waistband of her shorts, slowly tracing across the pebbling skin above it. It might kill him, but if after getting to this point, she wasn’t ready to breach this final threshold, he’d just have to take care of matters later on his own.

Relief and a sense of anticipation filled him at her slow nod as her hips lifted. He tucked his fingers into the band of her shorts and panties underneath, before working both below her thighs, then sliding them down her legs and off.

Racing would be a mild way of describing how his heart hammered away as he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. They had the rest of the night for him to make her his. But first…

He opened his eyes and let this gaze fall on her slender feet and curling toes, up her restless calves and over her knees pressed together, to her supple thighs. Then higher still to the near-black curls shielding her from his view.

Not for long.

Her fingers fidgeted with the sheet as he continued to look his fill of her toned, light brown body, finally fixing on her heaving breasts. His mouth watered for a taste of her button-hard nipples—the ones he'd been trying to picture behind those red suspenders in her photo.

Small and dark brown.

And so tight the ridges would scrape against his tongue. The tattoo of purple flowers drew his attention to the intricate design of each petal. The piece of body art had to have taken a long time to complete and painful to sit through.

It suited her.

And was just one more thing that added to her beauty—making her a complete picture in his mind, and an image he would always carry with him. But that was all outward. Inside, she was even more beautiful, and that was something he'd come to realize was the most important thing about her.

"Um… So are you going to…"

He raised his burning gaze, then had to hold in a grin again at how her teeth worried her bottom lip, while her eyes kept straying to, then lifted away from, his tented pajama pants. Leave it to Willa to bring humor into this raging want he had for her.

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