Page 30 of Second to None
It was impossible not to be flattered, but she shook her head. “You’ve created some ideal image of me, enhanced by the effect of seven years’ absence.”
“No.” He pulled her into him, his eyes blazing. “You are so much more than I remembered. More beautiful.” He skimmed one finger along her cheekbone, his touch a whisper that sent delight echoing through her. “Stronger.” He slid his hand under her hair to the back of her neck, his palm warm and smooth against her skin. “Infinitely more desirable.” He lowered his mouth to hers, his lips demanding that she believe him.
It didn’t matter if she believed him, because all she cared about was the feel of his mouth, the circling power of his arms, the strong, silky texture of his hair. Her body lit up everywhere he touched her, the glow spreading inside her to flare low in her belly. It felt so utterly right.
She threw back her head to let out a long sigh of delight.
“That was a sound to raise a man’s temperature,” he said, placing a hot kiss in the hollow of her throat.
“Lower,” she said.
He shifted his hands so he gripped her forearms, lifting her onto her toes as he dragged his mouth down between her breasts, licking the curves exposed by the V of her dress’s neckline.
“Not enough.” She needed his mouth on her aching nipples.
“Not nearly enough,” he agreed. He released her arms only long enough to rip the dress’s back zipper open and push the dress and her bra straps off her shoulders and to her elbows. Then he seized her arms again, his gaze locked on her breasts. “Emily.”
Her nipples drew in tighter just from having his focus on them. Anticipation of his touch fanned her longing higher. She arched to tempt him and was rewarded when he dropped his head to tongue one nipple. A charge of electricity shot straight to her core.
“Yes,” she hissed, pushing into his mouth.
The heat and moisture and pressure as he sucked and nipped and rolled sent bolt after bolt of delicious heat sizzling through her. Her skin was on fire. She wanted him to touch her everywhere.
She put her hands on either side of his head and pulled him away from the breast he was teasing, loving the sound of frustration he made. “I want to get my dress off.”
His smile was pure predator. “Let me help you.” He finished pulling down the zipper and helped her extract her arms from the sleeves before he shoved the material down over her hips and to her ankles, where she kicked it away.
She unfastened her bra, letting it slip the rest of the way down her arms before it fell to the floor.
“God in heaven.” His voice was a harsh rasp. He ran his fingertip along the lace top of one stocking, the touch teasingly close to where the hollow ache of longing was strongest. She drew in a gasp.
“I want to kiss your thighs,” he said, moving his finger to the other stocking.
“Yes! Please!”
He went to his knees and wrapped his hands around her hips to hold her as he bent his head to trace the same line his finger had followed around her stocking, but this time with his tongue. His hair tickled her bare skin, and his breath feathered over her in quick, hot bursts.
“I can see how wet you are,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to taste you.”
All she could do was moan and grab his shoulders for balance when he hooked one finger into the silk of her panties and moved it aside to give himself access.
Using both thumbs, he spread her open. She felt the brush of air against her, and then his tongue, lapping, stroking, probing. Her entire universe was centered on where his mouth touched her between her thighs. She glowed and pulsed and gasped until finally everything stood still for one long, exquisite moment before she exploded into an orgasm so overwhelming that she shrieked and dug her fingers into his shoulders to keep herself from falling.
When her brain began to function again, she found that Max still knelt in front of her, his head turned so his cheek was against her stomach, his arms around her hips to keep her upright.
She unclamped her fingers from his shoulders, flexing them to get the cramps out. Then she stroked his hair. “Max, that was ... unbelievable.”
She felt the breath he blew out across her skin. “Like a dream. Yet you feel real to me.” He came to his feet and took her head in his hands, feathering his lips over her face, as though he wanted to make sure of her solidity.
“You feel real to me, too,” she said, leaning into his warmth. The texture of his shirt against her breasts reminded her that he was fully clothed and she was nearly naked. “But I’d like to feel more of you.”
She pushed her hands between them and began to unbutton his shirt, spreading the fabric apart as she released each button. His chest was dusted with dark hair, and she pressed her lips against it while she worked at the next button.
He stood still, his hands cupping her behind, keeping her close enough to feel his erection against her belly. She pulled the shirt out of his waistband to reach the last button. When it flapped open, she skimmed her hands over the ridges of muscle in his abdomen and let her fingertips follow the arrow of dark hair that ran down to his belt. His muscles twitched and contracted and tempted her to rip open his belt buckle, but first she pressed her lips to the flat copper disk of his nipple, making him groan and rock against her. Which inspired her to do the same to his other nipple.
She yelped in surprise when he flexed his fingers into her buttocks and lifted her off the ground, striding over to the big sofa in front of the fireplace. “I wanted to see you naked by firelight,” he said. “But I’ve changed my mind.”
“You have?” She was pretty close to naked right now.
