Page 65 of The Payback Plan
Finally, their eyes still locked, her hand met his mouth and Paige watched helplessly and with great fascination as he brushed a lingering kiss to the back, breathing fire into the network of blue veins and injecting a slug of rocket fuel to her system.
Oh, dear lord, she wanted him beyond all reason. This feeling hadn’t gone away merely because she’d insisted it be ignored. If anything, as she stared at him across a dog-sized space, her breath like static in her lungs all haphazard and disorganised, it had grown.
It was now an unholy behemoth demanding to be fed.
‘Oliver,’ she whispered.
She had no idea why she said his name, what thought she was going to express. Her need? Her desire? Her torment?
It certainly wasn’t to tell himnoorstop.
And it sure as hell didn’t matter, anyway, as his eyes flared blue light and her blood pounded thick and slow through her temples, her neck, her belly. All flowing to the almighty ache growing between her legs.
‘Paige.’
Her name hung between them. One beat. Two. And then suddenly, the TV screen went black as the movie ended, plunging the room into full darkness and it was like the universe had not only given them permission but the cover of night. All Paige’s moral fibre, all the reasons fornotfucking Oliver Prendergast, disintegrated under the cloak of darkness and the weight of her carnal urges.
They met halfway with a clash of mouths and a combined moan that echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and hovering in the air, spiking it with a heady dose of lust. His hands slid either side of her neck as his tongue licked fire and brimstone into her mouth which she met with her own, her fingers tangling in his shirt as their heads twisted, their mouths roving restlessly as the kiss went deeper and deeper.
Not sampling but tasting, full and hearty, their breathing as loud and hungry as the winter wind howling at the door, as hungry as the howling banshee inside her commanding full and utter capitulation as lips ravaged and hunted.
Seeking, demanding. Giving, taking. Decadence and debauchery.
‘Christ, Paige,’ Oliver panted, his warm breath fanning her face as he pressed his forehead to hers. ‘If you want this to stop, you better say now because I don’t know how much control I’ve got over it.’
Well, that made two of them. But she understood, despite the sticky globules of lust clinging to synapses like dew to a spider’s web, what he was doing. He was giving her an out. And had the lights been on and Casper lying between them, she might have considered it. Hell, who was she kidding? They wouldn’t be here like this had that been the case.
But it wasn’t the case and for sure she was going to hell for this but, after four lonely years eschewing any whiff of physical closeness with another human being, she needed this like she needed her next breath.
Tomorrow she’d deal with the inevitable fallout. Tonight, she needed this to keepgoing on. She kissed him then, hard and sure before pulling away. ‘I don’t want to stop,’ she muttered.
Getting to her feet, Paige quickly pushed down her velour pants and stepped out of them as she lifted her baggy shirt over her head leaving her in just her mismatched underwear. Had she not been so lust addled, she probably wouldn’t have been so bold. But she was completely drunk on pleasure and the shadows were her friend.
‘Holy fuck,’ he swore, his eyes roving her body, like she was wearing the finest Victoria’s Secret lingerie instead of rainbow-striped knickers that sat too low to cover the soft rise of her stomach and her ancient sports bra.
And hell, if her heart didn’t skip a beat.
Drinking in his patent admiration for her curves, she stepped between his legs, dropping a knee to the couch beside his thigh, reaching for his shoulders as she dropped her other knee, looming above him temporarily as she straddled his lap. She sucked in a breath as he strung kisses across the valley of her cleavage, the husky serration of his breath sending spirals of sensation straight to her nipples.
Their heights equalised as she lowered herself, settling her centre against his. But where she was wet and soft he was hot and hard.Very freaking hardand she shivered as she ground against all that heat and thickness, dragging a low groan from his lips as he nuzzled the hollow at the base of her throat. She ground again and his fingers sunk into her ass, clutching her tight against him.
‘Shirt,’ she gasped as a furnace roared to life between her legs and a ripple undulating along muscles deep and low told her things were escalating fast.
Falling back against the couch, Oliver yanked his shirt off his head, exposing his flat abdomen, his smooth, firm pecs and the broad spread of his shoulders. Pillows of muscle in his belly contracted as he tossed his shirt, his gaze drifting slowly up her body, licking heat with those smouldering blue eyes until they met hers.
‘Bra.’
Awarding him mental points for not calling itthat depressingly functional contraption strapping your titties in, Paige complied eagerly. Her nipples were painfully tight and aching to be free. It still didn’t stop her hands from trembling though as she reached for the back clasp, his gaze intent on the show. Considering Paige had almost, on several occasions throughout her adult life, been strangled to death while trying to get out of a sports bra, the hooks and eyes cooperated first time and the bra straps slid down her arms, exposing her breasts to his full view.
‘Christ, Paige,’ he said on a reverent exhale as he leaned in and dropped a gentle kiss next to each taut nipple. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful.’
Every disparaging thought Paige had ever had about her body – and God knew, there’d been plenty of them – completely disappeared from her head because, right now, with him looking at her likethatshe felt like goddamn Eve.
The OG temptress.
His hands slid to her breasts and, on a groan, he sunk his face into them, his fingers stroking and kneading as his hot mouth found a pale pink bud and sucked.
Paige cried out it was so exquisite. Raw and base and perfect as his teeth scraped against the engorged tip. Her head fell back as Oliver switched from one nipple to the other in a never-ending loop, hot darts of sensation arrowing south from where his tongue flicked to where the slick heat at her centre met his steely girth.
