Page 89 of The Best Worst Mistake
My heart thumps in my chest while I wait for his response.
His face curls. “Atta girl,” he growls, releasing the fabric with a tug.
The bra falls to the floor and I take it as my cue to rip open his shirt, like he did to my dress. The buttons fly across the floor. I want the feel of his skin against mine.
Instead of looking angry, a wicked grin comes screaming across his face. I love it.
“Only fair,” I remind him, raising a brow, then add, “I’ll have two more delivered for you tomorrow. Both of them so I can do that again. Twice.”
This makes him laugh until his eyes wander lower on my chest, my breasts now on full display near eye level while I’m pressed against the wall.
He groans, then grabs the flesh between his lips, tightening his teeth around the hardened bud. My mouth opens as myeyes roll back, pushing the fullness of my chest deeper into his mouth, and he groans again. I grab a fistful of his hair when he switches to the other side, already feeling myself grow more and more ready for him.
When I can’t take it anymore, I gently yank his hair back, tilting his mouth up, and he draws his tongue against mine. Silas is, without a doubt, the best kisser I’ve ever had. Rough and playful, but somehow leaving me wanting more each time he stops to look at me.
“To the bed,” I moan again.
“Not yet,” he repeats, setting me down, dragging his hands to the rim of my panties, the only thing left on my body.
“Too . . . many . . . clothes,” he says, running his fingertips along the waistline.
“And you?” I ask, grabbing ahold of his torn shirt. I push it aside and grip the waistline of his pants. “You’re one to talk.”
My eyes stay on his as I turn my fingers downward, pressing my palm against that spot between his washboard abs and the V I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since seeing him half-naked on the plane.
He licks his bottom lip and bites down, an arrogant smirk playing across his features, daring me to go lower.
But I pause, just above his waist, my hand pressed to his skin, eyes burning into his.
“I want to see your face when I touch you. I want to see what a man like you does when he’s nearly brought to his knees.”
His face curls, tortured, like he’s ready for the air to evaporate from his lungs at my touch. He leans in and bites my bottom lip, releasing it as quickly as he does.
“You might like it when I’m on my knees,” he whispers. His breath mixes with mine.
He grasps my hips and slowly lowers his knees to the floor in front of me, kissing me just once between my legs. The fabricpresses between his lips when he presses them to me, and I can feel the heat of his breath through the thin material.
My knees buckle and I steady myself against him, reveling in his breath while it travels back up my body as he rises again to his feet.
The tease of just one kiss planted right there has me panting.
I slide my hand under the fabric of his boxer briefs to feel the tightness of his skin.
His breath hitches when I reach lower, and I don’t dare blink. Not wanting to miss one second of his reaction. He licks his bottom lip again, glancing down at my hips, and I can tell he wants to kiss me while I feel him for the first time, but I don’t.
Instead, I cup my palm around him, the full length of what he’s working with, while I watch his eyes dilate from just my touch alone. His jaw clenches slightly.
I kiss him once, watch his eyes when I drag my hand up and down so lightly that I wonder if he can even feel me teasing him.
“Jules,” he growls, restraint simmering just below the surface, nearly closing his eyes. “I wanted to take my time with you but with you touching me like that . . .”
I grin menacingly, then shove his pants to the floor. His briefs follow.
Then as slowly as I can, I pull my own panties down, letting them fall in a small heap over my toes while I keep my eyes tied to his.
Silas’ breath grows ragged.
He takes a step back, biting his fist, opening the space between us where his eyes can dance freely over my body, my skin.
