Page 77 of Tapped

“Watch,” he demands, and my eyes fall to my chest where he’s still taunting me through lace. His touch through the lace shoots straight between my legs. I’m drenched and squeeze my thighs together for relief and sanity. But I do as he said and watch every slow movement he makes on me. What I don’t expect is for him to dip his fingers beneath the lace and pull.

I moan as my body responds to him in every way. My nipples harden, my breasts swell from the spike of oxytocin shooting through my system.

Or, in my case, a strong shot of Micah Emmett.

“There we go,” he mutters as he circles my nipples with nothing between us. Skin to skin.

He takes a step back to get a good look at me.

“Micah.” His name is a plea on my tongue. I have no idea what to expect next. The anticipation is as much of an aphrodisiac as my reality. “What are you doing?”

He rips at the button fly on his jeans and dips his hand down the front of his boxers to adjust himself. His tip sticks out the band and glistens at me.

All of a sudden, I want to taste it.

I’ve never had that desire in my life.

“I might faint again,” I whisper.

His gaze drags up my body—my very bare body, thanks to my own desperation to impress him. He takes his time, licks his lips, and I wonder what he’s thinking.

“You’re not going to faint,” he assures me. “There’s also no reason for you to be nervous.”

“Micah, please,” I beg, but not for the reason he probably wants. I feel smaller than ever, and he feels impossibly powerful. “I can’t stand here like this much longer.”

He tips his head a touch. “That’s too bad, because I think I could stand here and stare at you for the rest of my life.”

I shake my head and start to fold my arms across my body.

But he’s faster.

He takes my wrists and holds them against the small of my back and bare ass. Pressing against me, his bare chest is warm against my sensitive breasts, and his lips are so close to mine, his breath becomes one with my skin. “There’s no reason for you to be nervous, baby.”

I tip my head to look up at him. “Since I’m the one standing here almost naked, I disagree.”

A satisfied smile tugs at his lips. “You can’t be dressed for what I’m about to do to you.”

I suck in a swift breath.

“And you don’t have to be nervous, because you don’t have to do a thing. I’m going to take care of you tonight. Consider yourself here for the experience.”

I gulp. “The Micah Experience?”

His smile swells. “You said it. Not me.”

He leans in and brushes his lips against mine right before he drops to his knees again. My bare hips are framed in his big hands, and he pulls me to him, this time to kiss the scar he was so angry about.

Lord, this man is going to kill me.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as his hands move, and I feel his thumbs on my sex.

I moan when he massages my lips there before pulling them apart. “Take a step.”

I move my right foot a few inches as he proves I can be wetter than I was, which I didn’t think was possible.

“Wider, baby.”

Oh, shit.

---