Page 60 of Kissing Danger

If he started moaning, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. As I’d already established, the sound of his voice was too much of a turn on. To silence him, I captured his mouth in a hungry kiss that would swallow any sound he made.

On instinct, I started grinding my hips, pushing myself harder against his touch. The hand that was wrapped around my cock sped up, and the hand on my ass grew bold enough to start rubbing deliberately around my rim.

Little jolts of pleasure danced along my nerves, and for once, I wasn’t nervous at all.

I sighed into the kiss, making my enjoyment known.

Without warning, Nathan suddenly stopped what he was doing and wrapped his arms around me, then stood from the tub. He brought me with him, keeping my legs locked around his waist to help support my weight as he stepped out of the tub and left the bathroom behind. I watched the puddles we left in our wake over Nathan’s shoulder. If I looked at the bed, I would probably get nervous again, and I wanted to stay relaxed.

Nathan said he had plans for me, but I had plans, too, and they didn’t involve letting my irrational anxiety get the best of me once again.

Nathan’s bed was just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment. It was one of the few things that was bigger than it needed to be, a California King, and was draped in blue-gray sheets. The fine silk clung to my damp skin when Nathan deposited me on the bed. They were cool to the touch, as silk always was, and I shivered until Nathan joined me. The heat of his body chased away even the memory of cold.

We tangled tightly together, kissing like we could only breathe air from the other person’s lungs. Nathan groped blindly with one hand through the nightstand drawer to pull out a bottle of lube, never once letting our mouths part.

The sound of the cap popping open brought me back to my senses.

“Wait.”

Nathan froze, the open bottle still held in one hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just... I want to do something.” I held out my hand for the bottle. “Can I?”

Without hesitation, he placed the bottle in my hand.

“Whatever you want. I owe you after letting you get kidnapped tonight. Even if it was just my brother, you still shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

Holding the bottle, I nervously toyed with the cap. He sounded so certain, but would his offer remain when he realized what I wanted to do?

Only one way to find out.

“All right. Can you lie down? On your stomach? I want... I want to be in control.”

This time there was a moment of hesitation. Last time Nathan submitted himself to me, he’d still been in control, even going so far as to handcuff me to the headboard.

The moment passed, and Nathan seemed to come to a decision with himself. His movements were stiff but certain as he lay down on his stomach with his legs spread just a little.

Running a hand over his back and admiring the ripple of muscles I felt, I leaned in to bite his ear again.

“Thank you.”

His crossed arms acted like a pillow as he looked at me over his shoulder. “Don’t thank me. Asking for what you want in bed shouldn’t be treated like I’m making some great sacrifice for you. If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t.”

He spread his legs wider, making enough room for me to kneel between. There were scars on his back, more so than on his front. The most prominent ones were the slashes over his shoulders, and a particularly gnarled spot where it looked likesomeone had tried to stab him in the kidney. The worst scars were old and had faded to a pale silver color. The few young, pink scars were small and seemed to be the result of superficial wounds, rather than anything life-threatening.

He had tattoos on his back as well, and when a scar distorted the artwork, it was left that way. There had been no effort to correct the tattoos or hide the scars. Although Nathan had never said so out loud, I was certain that he considered the combination of scars and tattoos like a storybook mapping out his life. Every accomplishment and failure was etched into his skin one way or another so they would never be forgotten.

Would I ever appear on his skin?

I took a moment to trace each scar and tattoo, committing them to memory as I made my way down his back. His ass was firm, with just as much muscle as the rest of his body, and I couldn’t resist the urge to sink my teeth into the top of the swell just below his left hip-dimple.

“Did you just bite me?” he asked over his shoulder, though he didn’t try to pull away.

My teeth left a slight mark but didn’t break the skin. “Problem?”

He laughed. It was an awkward, breathy sound that people made when they didn’t know what else to do. “No, just... no one’s ever dared to do that before.”

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