Page 44 of Anything but Mine

His feet were cemented to the stage. He didn’t realize just how much he wanted her to come to him until now. Without a lure, without an ulterior motive, without anything but hunger lighting those amazing eyes.

She stopped in front of him, her hands resting on his shoulders as they slowly swayed together.

“Touch me.”

He closed his eyes as her jasmine scent hit him a moment before her breasts grazed his chest. He slid his palm over her hip to her bare back and up the silky dip of her spine. With his other arm he wrapped her close. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh, they swayed into a lazy spin.

The brush of her forehead against his chin, the heat of her breath against his neck, the way she fit against him, all of it felt right. He trailed the tips of his fingers up her back to the nape of her neck. She was silky soft with just a hint of damp from the unrelenting heat. He curled his fingers into her hair and drew her head back enough to sip from her neck.

Her skin was salty and warm. He traced the column of her neck to her collarbone and made a return trip up, scraping his teeth where she swallowed hard, then lighter over her chin to hover over her lips. He watched her eyes slit open as he flicked his tongue along her lower lip. Just the lightest touch.

He breathed her in, accepting her hot breath and sweet moan. On the edge of his first real taste of her, he wanted to hold onto it, to resist her lure. He pulled away and bussed his lips along her cheek and along her jaw.

The song spun out as the guitars grew darker, grittier. It suited his mood. He was already wound too tight to touch her. He wanted her taste inside of him so very badly. Denial seemed to be his only way out of this without going a little mad.

Her hands slid down his shoulders and gripped his triceps. He twirled her away from him, then back—this time pressing her ass against his hips. Her quick indrawn breath rumbled into a groan as he fastened his mouth to the soft skin between her shoulder and neck. He nudged the strap of her dress aside and swirled his tongue around the slightly indented skin.

He kept the sway of their bodies in time, letting her feel just how much she affected him. Palm flat on her lower belly, he used his other hand to stroke up her ribs to cup her breast. When she arched into his touch, he grew bolder, filling both hands with her firm breasts.

“Tell me if I’m going too far.”

“Not far enough.” She reached behind to cup his ass, molded her fingers over his thigh, and then around to his zipper.

He groaned as she followed the line of his shaft pinned to him by the placket of his pants. She dropped her chin forward, exposing her neck to him. He followed the line of her spine, gripping her hips as he lowered to the delicate skin between her shoulder blades and dipped his tongue into the small of her back.

He crouched behind her, coasting over the flare of her hips to her thighs and down to the hem of her dress. He slipped under her dress, scraped his fingers over the lightly muscled flesh of the backs of her thighs. The higher he climbed, the louder his heart slammed in his chest and reverberated in his ears.

He dipped his thumbs along her inner thighs and opened her wider. “That’s it, Izzy. Open for me.”

“Logan.”

He drew his thumb along the elastic edges of her panties, drawing her dress higher until the curve of her ass was revealed. He traced his way to the front of her panties, mimicking the trail with his other thumb until he reached the front of the pale purple silk.

She swayed once, then widened her stance. He rubbed his chin lightly along the hot, petal-soft skin where her cheek met thigh. He followed the line of her panties one more time, this time with his tongue.

Soft, with a hint of salt, her skin was addictive. He returned to the center of her thighs and lapped at the cotton panel protecting her folds. The click of her heels was loud in the room as she shifted again. He smiled against the silk and lace and rolled them down the high curve of her ass.

They dropped to the floor and she stepped free, kicking them to the side. Logan dragged his chin along the back of her thigh until the scrape of his stubble made her gasp out his name. When he got to the top, he dipped inside of her. Salt and heat and the fusion of Izzy’s taste exploded across his tongue.

He slid his hands to the front of her thighs and held her still. Now that her taste was inside him, he was starved for it. He braced one arm across her thighs, shoved her dress up, and tipped her forward. With more access, he buried his tongue deeper. Needing more, he drank from her until the sounds of her moans rivaled the wetness coating his chin.

She swayed

again and he stood, dragging her back against him as he feasted on her neck and brought his hand up to cup her.

“God, so wet.” He scraped his teeth over her earlobe. He curled two fingers along the front of her pussy. She was swollen and greedy for his touch. He wanted to delve inside again, to feel that sucking warmth, but he knew it wouldn’t stop there.

Instead he stroked her high, tight clit. Again and again. Until her head thrashed against his chest, and her thighs quaked.

“Izzy.”

She moaned and the sound rolled into a broken cry as she came apart for him.

He held her, soothed her as she shuddered against him. He buried his nose into her hair. Jasmine and the earthy soap she used he could handle. It didn’t make him any less hard, but it wasn’t that honeyed scent of her. The scent that he’d hold onto and hope to God wouldn’t make him insane in the process.

She closed her fingers over his hand, the nails no longer digging as her breath slowed. Her other hand slid between them, cupping his cock.

He pressed his cheek against hers. “I’m good.”

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