Page 63 of Token

When he turned his hand sideways, she involuntarily performed a few seconds of Kegel exercises. His desire-roughened voice indicated she wasn’t the only one affected. “Just say the word if you want me to stop.”

And Kennedy knew she could take the monstrous bastard at his word. How dare he put the onus on her. Yet how diabolically clever of him.

“What word?” she whispered.

Nate laughed then, the sound a throaty rumble. “Stop...but you have to say it in French.”

“How do I saystopin French?” she asked, ever conscious of her legs relaxing and drifting apart and his hand moving under her dress. The long length of her legs afforded her an additional second or two before it reached its destination, if what was under her now-damp thong was his ultimate goal.

“Arrête,”he purred, never once removing his gaze from hers.

The low, sexy cadence of his voice, the touch of his hands, and the expression on his face—those slumberous blue eyes—all did a number on her. It was like she was whisked back in time to that day at her and Aurora’s apartment.

With Aurora in California with her high school boyfriend before she moved to New York permanently, Nate had come by the apartment to make sure she was settling in okay. They’d met the year before when Aurora had invited her out to New York for the summer. After an hour of small talk and flirting, he’d made his move and she’d been with him every step of the way.

“How do you saydon’t stop?”

Why don’t you cut to the chase and tell him to fuck you?

His eyes flared as his hand contracted against her slim upper thigh.“N’arrête pas,”he growled.

Where she found the fortitude to play coy, she had no idea, but she did. “What aboutkiss me?”

His eyes darkened and dropped to her lips.“Embrasse-moi.”

To an English-only-speaking person, his French sounded sexy good. In the future, she’d demand he speak it to her more often. Especially on occasions like this.

Kennedy knew she wasn’t so much playing with fire as she was tossing igniter fluid on it. “What aboutdo me?” she whisper-laughed, husky and taunting.

Nate made an inarticulate sound in his throat, but she got his meaning all too well. And it was the last thing she heard before his mouth was on hers and she was flat on her back.

Kennedy let out a startled moan that ended in satisfaction as she willingly gave herself up to longing, pleasure, and lust. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She wouldn’t go as far as to say Nate had spoiled her for other men, but he’d done something that made the taste of him on her tongue and weight of him on her, over her, between her legs, an experience she’d never forgotten and had wanted to repeat over and over again.

“God, you feel good,” he mumbled against her lips, kissing the corners, and then her chin and the slope of her neck.

Ditto.Kennedy plowed her fingers through his hair and palmed the back of his head. She didn’t know if that was to keep his mouth close or for her own support. Her mind was a dizzying mix of emotions, of wants and needs. She needed his mouth back on hers, and on her breasts, her stomach, and between her thighs. On all the needy parts clamoring for his attention.

Taking matters into her own hands, panting, she urged his mouth back to hers, welcoming the thrust and parry of his tongue, the kiss as ardent and ravenous as she could ever wish for.

A riptide of sensation engulfed her, every erogenous zone in her body under siege and overwhelmed. And they were both still fully clothed.

It had been a long time, but she wasn’t sure she was mentally or physically prepared for how her body would react without a stitch between them.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. With a mumbled, “Bed,” Kennedy was soon off the couch and in his arms in a move so deft and smooth, one would have thought it was choreographed. With his mouth still on hers, he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. There he placed her on the mattress, only then breaking the kiss, something he appeared reluctant to do, if the way his mouth lingered on her neck and collarbone was anything to go by.

When he finally lifted his head and stood at the side of the bed, Kennedy cast a look around the spacious room, vaguely noting the king-sized bed and the navy blue comforter beneath her.

“If you don’t want to go any further, this would be a good time to tell me,” Nate said, his erection prominent against the fly of his pants.

A smile crept across her face. “If you’re going to talk, you can explain to me why you’re still dressed.”

Her words seemed to act as the starting gunshot of a race as to how quickly he could get them naked. If there was a record to be broken, he appeared determined to shatter it. His shirt came off first. His dress pants and briefs, pooled at his feet, soon followed. When he started in on hers, he made it clear he didn’t need or want her help, because what started as a show of quick efficiency slowed significantly when it came to removing the matching bra-and-thong set.

Kennedy couldn’t keep her eyes off his body, the thrum of desire at her core growing stronger with each new rush of moisture. He looked the same as she remembered him but different. He’d filled out from the twenty-three-year-old who’d relieved her of her virginity and shown her how unbelievably pleasurable sex could be when had with the right person. Broader in the shoulders, more muscled throughout, his body beautifully proportioned and firm.

Reaching out, she ran her palms down his rippled chest and abs. In the same moment, he pushed the flimsy cups of her bra aside, exposing her breasts.

Gaze riveted, he drew in a breath. “God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was hoarse.

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