Page 120 of Homebound
“It’s important to me. No, shh, sit still.” She wrapped her hands around his head firmly. She wouldn’t be denied this touch.
“Are you going to eat?” he asked.
“Later.” She didn’t care that the pasta would grow cold and lose what little appeal it carried now. The small sacrifice was well worth a session of playing with Simon’s hair.
She quickly undid his tangled braid and picked up a comb. Working in small sections, she brushed his smooth abundant hair until it shone and fell like a waterfall down his back. He held still as a statue.
“The feel of it so so exciting to me,” she whispered. “The feel of you is exciting.”
In a blink of an eye, she landed on his lap, the room spinning and he hauled her over his head. She had no time to squeal. Dazed, she stared into his eyes, seeing his pupils and her own reflection.
“You’re so strong, Simon,” she observed in wonder.
“Yes, and I want you to remember that. I can break you if I don’t take care.”
She heard the warning but didn’t heed it. The smell of him up close was too potent. She pressed her nose into the hollow at the base of his neck and inhaled, the curtain of his hair all around her. Her veins heated up with buzzing desire.
She moved to sit astride his lap.
“You make me mad. Why won’t you listen? Stay away from me,” he growled and took her mouth in a bruising, hot kiss. His tongue rasped against hers, and the inside of his mouth felt cool and dry. “You have the sense of a chicken. My teeth can shred your tongue, and you kiss me on the mouth.”
Gemma blinked, dazed and off-balance. “I’d rather die happy from your kisses than not know your kisses at all.”
He laughed, she felt it in his chest. “No self-preservation, either.”
He kissed her again and touched her breasts through the rough material of her borrowed shirt. He pressed one finger against her sternum and slowly traced it down with a nail sharp as a razor, until the shirt parted in the middle, neatly sliced in half. Her breasts popped free, nipples taught and ready for him to do with as he pleased. Gemma felt a rosy blush warm up her neck and chest, not from embarrassment, but from the acute pleasure of being displayed to his gaze. She wanted him to look at her. Her full chest, the bane of her existence with men, finally felt right. She held her breath in anticipation, willing him to put his mouth on them.
He bent down, and the rasp of his tongue against her nipple made her whimper. Clutching handfuls of his angelic hair, Gemma threw her head back as he explored her breasts in every little detail. He laved her nipples with his tongue until she thought she was going to die in his arms. He then pushed her breasts together and paid close attention to the valley between them, and nipped the underside of each fleshy globe.
She wiggled, her body thoroughly wet and ready for the next step, but he remained flat under her rocking hips.
Emboldened, she reached down to touch his crotch. His glittering eyes told her he was aroused, yet there was no other physical evidence.
He allowed her access by spreading his legs a little wider, and her searching fingers made contact with the skin there.
“Do you like being touched here? Does it make you excited?”
“You make me excited.” His long fingers skimmed her buttocks under the thin underwear.
“I want to see you,” the words spilled out of her mouth. And once said, she couldn't, wouldn't take them back. She wanted to see that part of him that he kept so carefully hidden, by intent or through nature, she didn’t know. She wanted to know.
Simon’s brows rose, a gentle mockery she found she had gotten used to. “That part of me isn’t meant to come out before you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
One casual flick of his clawed hand, and he ripped her underwear off her. He pulled her hips forward, in position, her wet entrance smack over his shooting point. “Now you are ready.”
Her breath hitched again at the experience of being handled so easily by this large male. This close, where she could feel his muscles tightening as he moved, his power electrified her.
Still, Gemma resisted. “But I want to see you. Can’t you… you know, let out?”
He shook his head, the hair rippling. It, and his velvety skin, felt decadent.
“I have to feel you to release. Right here. I need your wetness and your heat. Or my body wouldn’t obey.”
“Why is everything so complicated with you?”
It amused him, she could tell by his voice. “Protective instincts. Unlike my teeth, my equipment can’t grow back.”
