Page 75 of A Kiss for Carter (The Laws of Love 3)

“Trade secret.”She giggled and added, “I’m actually flattered you couldn’t hold out.”

“Grrrr, you’re taking advantage of my weakness—and you’re not going to win.”

It was payback time.With the issue of his trigger-happy dick out the way and his limbs feeling as loose and relaxed as pulled toffee, it was time to focus on the woman he loved.

Loved?

Yes.Loved.He loved Judith Mellors… He loved her and he was darn sure she loved him.

And even if it was too early to say those words out loud, the realisation would have knocked his socks off if he’d been wearing any, which thankfully he wasn’t, because making love with your socks on was totallyfucked.

He realised now that he’d been presented with the real McCoy, that his clumsy attempts at love before had been mere play acting, hoping that those mediocre relationships would make him feel he belonged in a world that was too bewildering… too cruel.

But with Judith he didn’t have to pretend.She saw beneath the awkward façade to the real him.And she liked what she saw.All the imperfections; his unruly hair and bony ankles… and most importantly… his fragile heart.And she wanted all of them.

All ofhim.

Suddenly ridiculously happy, he let his fingers trail down until they met the swell of her breast, her taut nipple.When she gave a breathy sigh he whispered, “You didn’t honestly think we’d finished?”And when she turned her body into him he became braver still.“Do you think it’s safe to turn the lights back on?”

Carts’fingers on her breast, coaxing her nipple into a hard little peak was incredibly erotic to watch, and like a she-cat tempting her mate, she licked her lips.The ambient light from the bedside lamp accentuated the swell of his shoulder and bicep, his firm pecs, the dusting of dark hairs across his chest, the chocolate brown of his nipples, his long sensitive fingers.

He really had no idea how beautiful he was.

In another brain-space she’d pick up a pencil and draw the lines of his torso, shadow in the play of muscles on his chest and abs, but no, oh no, not right now.

Because his hands were playing her like an instrument, his attention focused on every reaction, like he was listening for the beat and cadence of her body to tell him what his next note should be.

He was a musician alright, maybe not in the same way as his sister, but he was a maestro of touch.

“Nice?”he asked, his smoky gaze holding hers as his hand cupped her breast, his thumb sweeping gently back and forth over her nipple.Her lips quivered a silent yes, and he smiled as his hand strayed over her ribs, smoothed over her belly to meet the curve of her hips and dipped lower still…

She arched to meet him.

When his hand slid between her legs, his fingers gently parting her and finding the bud of her clitoris, she held onto his shoulders as the tension rose inside her, a symphony of longing, building to a crescendo.

He stroked, he coaxed, he strummed her so expertly that she had no choice but to go where his touch led.

“Kiss me,” she begged, knowing how close she was.

She wanted him inside her again.Would he be ready?She reached down and with satisfaction felt the hard ridge of his erection.

“Another condom.”It was a demand, her building orgasm overpowering any residual niceness.

Carts obliged.

“What do you want?”Those words were almost enough to make her come on the spot.The need inside her quickened.

She had to be on top.

Flinging back the covers, she delighted in the glory of him, his narrow hips and the v of dark hair that arrowed down to where he was hard and proud and ready for her again.

“Okay?”he rasped.

She nodded, hands splayed on his chest, feeling the base of his penis against her sex.She manoeuvred until he was positioned just right and moved herself up and down the length of him.

Her head kicked back as his hand moved between them, touching her, just right.

And now there was more than sweet music, there was a crescendo building of their breath rising and quickening, of his murmured praise of her beauty, of the dampness gathering on his brows and the darkening of his eyes.

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