Page 63 of Tempt

I sneak a hand beneath the bottom of his T-shirt and the warmth and smoothness of his skin, the softness of his hair contrasting with the rock solid beneath is addictive.

His lips drag away from mine to skim along my jaw, my throat.

He lowers me to the couch, his mouth never leaving my skin, his hot little trail continues down my shoulder, over the curve of my breast above my tank top.

He’s lighting fires everywhere. Ones that will smolder and leave ash, a permanent reminder of where he’s been.

When his lips close around my nipple through the fabric, pleasure explodes in my core. A moan slips out.

“We have to be quiet,” he murmurs, covering my mouth with his hand. It’s a reminder of the kid asleep upstairs and how wrong this all is.

I want to feel his skin on mine. Nothing between us.

But when he reaches under my shirt to my stomach, I grab his wrists and move his hand to the waistband of my shorts instead.

Daniel shifts over me, resting his hips over mine and looking me dead in the eyes. “You sure this is okay?”

I can feel him hard between my thighs and I nod. “Yeah.”

His mouth curves and he drops a kiss on my lips.

“What about this?”

His hips rock, grinding against me.

“Yes.” I brush a piece of hair out of my face. His expression is tight and aroused.

He slips a hand up the back hem of my shorts to grab my ass.

His grip is determined, his fingers drifting towards the spot that aches.

My eyes drift closed again as we rock together.

I fist a hand in the couch cushion, trying to get leverage.

“You feel so good.” His lips find the shell of my ear. His voice is low, his praise like candy.

I imagine him inside me. His smooth strokes, completely assured.

I bet the man can keep a good rhythm. He’s so regimented in everything else, it might pay off between the sheets.

“I want to make you come.”

His rasp surprises me almost as much as it turns me on.

“Tell me what you need.”

“A little more…” I wiggle my hips and he gets the message. He brushes me through my underwear, and I moan.

His lips return, and this time he wants me to feel his tongue like I’m feeling his cock.

With each stroke, the idea of falling apart seems less crazy.

I’m so aroused.

It’s so good.

We’re so bad.

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