Page 5 of Stealthy Seduction
As if she even wanted to.
His hands were everywhere—skimming her hips, sliding up her ribs, dragging her closer. The edge of the counter dug into her spine, but the sting only fueled the fire.
His kiss deepened, tongue tangling with hers, all dominance and heat. She moaned into his mouth, and that single sound broke something in him.
He drew away, chest heaving, eyes glinting in a way that made her thighs clench and her pussy flood with want.
When she arched into him, he groaned low in his chest, gripping her thighs and hauling her up onto the counter like she weighed nothing. The cool marble hit her skin, a shocking contrast to the molten burn between them.
Empty margarita glasses rattled, but all she could think about was getting Hudson where she’d wanted him since the minute she first set eyes on him months ago.
Hudson wedged himself between her knees, dragging her closer. She locked her legs around his hips, pulling him into her. The towel she wore around her waist loosened and dropped, one less barrier between them.
He crowded in and settled the bulge of his arousal flush against the spandex bikini covering her pussy.
“Jesus, Izzy…” His drawl rumbled through her, rough and ragged. “You’re drivin’ me outta my damn mind.”
Her only answer was a moan as his hand slid under her bikini top, palming her breast with possessive heat. She gasped into his mouth, the spark turning to wildfire as his thumb stroked her nipple until she was trembling.
Everywhere he touched, he left her unraveling—her body no longer her own but his to command. She’d never been manhandled like this, never wanted to be. But Steele’s handsweren’t careless—they were desperate. And that desperation matched her own.
He yanked her bikini straps down, baring her. She should’ve cared, should’ve thought about where they were, but all she could focus on was the blaze in his eyes when he looked at her, like she was the only thing he’d ever needed.
His mouth left hers only to trail fire down her throat, across her collarbone, until he closed over her nipple with a growl. Her head fell back against the cabinet, breath coming in quick gasps.
“Hudson…” Her voice cracked, half plea, half warning.
“Not stoppin’, honey. Not when you’re this wet for me.” That drawl again. And his hand slipping between her thighs, dragging her bikini bottoms aside and plunging his fingers into her slick heat.
She cried out, clutching at his broad shoulders as he worked her, each stroke rougher, deeper, urging her higher until she was rocking against his hand shamelessly.
“Please,” she whispered.
He lifted his head, gaze searing. “Please what? You want me to stop?”
“Never.”
The word was barely out before he lifted her off the counter, her legs clamping around his waist. He took two steps toward the doorway, toward the room he promised to give her a tour of, but halted in his tracks. He pinned her against the wall, devouring her mouth as he ground against her, the thick press of his erection making her dizzy with need.
A low growl rumbled through his chest. He fisted her hair, angling her head back as his lips trailed pure white-hot fire down her neck. With a ragged exhale, she clutched at his shoulders, uncaring that her nails bit into his muscle. He groaned against her throat, the sound guttural, animalistic.
The need between them spiked—too wild to contain. Their mouths clashed again, hot and messy, her hands roaming down the hard plane of his chest. His palm slid under her ass, hitching her half up into his arms, trying to bring her toward the stairs.
But she wasn’t ready to move, not when every nerve ending screamed for him right here. She caught his jaw in both hands and kissed him like she’d die if she stopped. Their bodies pressed tight, their breath ragged.
He broke the kiss just long enough to rasp against her lips, voice low and shredded with need, “Stairs. Now.”
Somehow, they staggered toward the staircase, his lips never leaving hers, her fingers tangled in his hair. Each step was a battle between restraint and raw hunger, and his control felt like it was hanging by a thread.
By the time he kicked his bedroom door shut, she was already stripping his shirt off, her nails raking down his chest. He tossed her on the bed and followed, braced over her, his eyes dark with possession.
“You sure about this, Izzy?” His voice was a gravelly warning, but his hand was already tugging her bottoms down, his chest rising and falling with the force of his need.
“Yes.” She held his gaze, panting. “God, yes.”
He pushed off her, all testosterone and athletic prowess. She watched through hooded eyes as he crossed the dim room, his tall frame outlined by the moonlight streaming through one window.
He rummaged around for a moment. When he returned, he had a condom pinched between two fingers.
