Page 86 of Greed
So could she.
With that small powerful thought, a slow grin spread. Her carnal desires must have leaked through her body language because an emboldened smile curved his lips. His reaction gave her the confidence to pry his fingers from the bench and whisper, “Let’s go to your bedroom.”
She’d seen the open doorway when they entered the apartment and tugged him after her as she walked there. When they arrived, she stopped and let go of his hand. He came up behind her, not quite touching but close enough she could feel the heat of his aura caressing her spine.
His bedroom was sparsely decorated and lit gently by the secondhand kitchen light shining through. The king-sized bed pushed against the far wall was draped in a white comforter, copious pillows, and navy linen sheets. Two metal bed-side tables had books stacked strategically next to lamps. The floor was wooden and smooth, the walls white and unassuming, and a balcony window with soft billowing curtains revealed the night-lit Quadrant park below. She could hear a siren, traffic and even the faint thumping coming from the nightclub, levels below.
That wouldn’t do. She crossed the room and shut the window, blocking out all sound. When she turned back, he hadn’t moved from the doorway.
Wow. He was magnificent. Tall, cut, tense.
And he was serious about his promise to let her lead. It made her bold.
“Sit on the bed,” she ordered.
It came out curt and she flinched, but he did as told. He glided to the bed, sat on the edge and faced her, fists on his thighs. She stood between his knees and looked at him. His yearning held her captivated.
Where to begin?
He was a carved smorgasbord of perfection, and she wanted all of him at once, but she needed to take it slow. To relish him.
“Remove your shirt,” she whispered.
Without breaking eye contact, he popped his buttons, one by one until the shirt gaped open, giving her a sinful peek at his sculptured chest. Exactly how she’d imagined it. Hard. Smooth. Bunched with perfect abdominals and a dusting of dark hair that led beyond his waistband. He went to take off his shirt.
“Stop,” she said, voice husky.
He stopped.
“I want to do it.”
Slowly, he lowered his hands.
Lilo slipped one side of his shirt from his shoulder, taking special care to keep the pressure over his skin steady. But that simple touch made his eyes smokey, wanting more, and it made her sweat with impatience. Her nipples hardened. Her sex heated.Slow, Lilo. Slow.She slid the shirt off the other shoulder and it hit the mattress, trapping his wrists.
She could tie him up. Force him to keep his hands from her, force him to keep his promise to let her lead. But the minute she entertained the thought, she knew it wasn’t how she wanted their relationship to start, and that’s what this was—a new relationship. It was more than a simple one-night stand, or a meeting of the bodies. It was a connection that ran deeper than any she’d known.
He trusted her.
She untangled his hands from his sleeves and threw the shirt across the room. It hit the wall and slid to the floor. When she looked back at Griffin, she grinned.
“I like doing this. Do you?”
“Yes,” he breathed, eyes drinking her in.
She stepped back to give herself a better view. The blue light from the window blended with the warm kitchen light, and danced across his hard features, creating deep shadows cut from stone. They held each other’s gaze and with each passing second, she could see his chest lift and fall rapidly. Her own breath rasped as her body swelled with need.
“Now take off the rest.” She pointed to his pants.
Perhaps she should have told him to take his time because his shoes and pants were off in seconds, and then he sat there in his boxer shorts, waiting for her.
“All of it.” Her grin turned wicked as she glared at his boxers. “Slowly this time.”
With heavy lids, and an exhaled shuddering breath of impatience, he did as he was told, hooking his thumbs into his waistband, drawing them low, releasing his impressive erection, and sitting back down, arms at his side, waiting. It was a pose that had his granite-like stomach muscles contract deliciously. Damn her, because she was the one who would lose control in a minute, not the other way around.
“Shit, Griffin,” she mumbled and lifted her hands to her aching breasts. He watched with ardent eyes, tracking her movement as her fingers teased her nipples through her dress. She was so ready for him. Already wet. Aching to lose herself in his touch.
Slow.
