Page 11 of Fairy Tale Lies
Amusement played over his face, and he gave her a wicked smile. “Yes. I do.”
He was having way too much fun at her expense. Straightening her spine, she stared him in the eyes and pushed the berry out with the tip of her tongue. She raised her brows with a come-and-get-it look.
Disbelief flickered across his face, giving her a burst of satisfaction. Seconds later, a wave of lust replaced it, and his gaze pinned her with a promise of paradise.
“With pleasure.” He bent, taking his time, biting off the tip of the berry, brushing his mouth softly across hers.
After swallowing the small piece, he traced his tongue gently along the bottom of her lip, capturing a small bead of juice. He tasted of strawberries, desire, and sin.
The erotic playfulness of his mouth was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced while fully clothed, heck, maybe even naked.
“That was one hell of a sweet strawberry,” he hummed, running a thumb along her bottom lip.
She swallowed the fruit and resisted the urge to suck his finger into her mouth. “Maybe it wasn’t the berry,” she said, with surprising boldness, relishing the way he fixated on her mouth.
“Maybe not.” His voice was laden with desire. “I’ll need another taste to be sure.”
He came near again, pressing his lips tentatively as if waiting for her to pull away. When she didn’t, he explored her mouth with a little more heat. His tongue brushed against hers like the sweep of a match ready to ignite.
She grasped his shoulders, then ran a hand to the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair. His hand traveled up her thigh, and his mouth ravished hers with delicious expertise; the myriad of sensations was exquisite. The brush of his lips and the scrape of his rough stubble against her sensitive skin sent a coil of need between her legs. He made her simultaneously melt and ignite with need.
His hands snaked around her waist. “Come here,” he rumbled.
The desire in his voice matched her own, and it didn’t even occur to her to resist. She moved to sit sidelong on his lap.
Maybe later she’d regret her impulsiveness. Right now, all she wanted was to lose herself in the warmth of his muscular body and sensual touch. Her hands returned to his hair, and this time she dug her fingers around the thick locks and tugged him closer. A deep moan escaped him, thrilling her to the core and emboldening her.
Breaking the kiss, she slid off his chair and stood on shaky legs. His fingers gripped her waist, urging her back toward him. As she straddled him, her dress slipped farther up her thighs. He ran his calloused hands around and cupped her lace-covered bottom. She couldn’t resist rocking against him.
“Greta…you’re killing me,” he growled against her mouth.
He gathered the material of her dress in his hands, and they separated long enough for him to pull it off. Tossing it to the floor, he cupped her breasts and drew his tongue over the tops of them, sending shivers of ecstasy throughout her body.
Needing more contact with his skin, she tugged at the hem of his shirt. He took the hint and leaned back, yanking it off. His naked torso was a sight to behold. Even the tattoo covering most of his upper left chest and shoulder was appealing.
She ached to touch every inch of him. She settled on running her fingers lightly along the design of an intricate raven, beak starting at his collarbone and the body moving to his chest.
Tracing the wings to a broken clock on his bicep, she murmured, “Why a raven?”
He didn’t answer, and Greta glanced at his face. His concentration riveted to the trail her fingers were making. Maybe he sensed her gaze because he gave a small shake of his head and peered into her eyes.
“They represent renewal, reflection, heal—” His words cut off when her fingertips circled one of his nipples.
He sucked in a sharp breath before capturing her lips in a kiss hot enough to set her blood on fire. He traced his mouth along her jaw to her neck, not stopping until he reached her breasts.
He nudged aside her white lace bra, placing his mouth on her nipple and breast. Using his lips and tongue, he teased and tasted her, bringing her close to climax. The part of her brain still capable of thinking was amazed. Orgasms were few and far between for her, and to be teetering on the edge of one when he hadn’t even touched her below the waist was a miracle.
“Fuck, you taste good. I want to lick and taste you everywhere, not just your breasts but your arms, your stomach, your thighs…between your thighs,” he rasped against her flesh, never stopping his heavenly assault.
His explicit talk should shock her, be a turn-off. Instead, she loved it as much as his touch. She tried to slip her hand between them, to his slacks but was distracted when his mouth trailed to her neck and bit. The pressure was perfect, a little pain and so much pleasure.
“More,” she pleaded.
A clap of thunder reverberated through the house, followed by a flash of lightning. The power flickered then went out. Jacob didn’t seem to notice, and she wouldn’t have cared if a tornado carried them off to Oz.
All that mattered was he didn’t stop.
His hands slid under her bottom and picked her up. “Where’s the bedroom?”
