Page 40 of The Criminal

“I like my pajama pants.” With slow, deliberate movements, he caught a stray lock of my hair and brushed it behind my ear and over my shoulder. His hand skated down my arm, barely touching. The graze of his callused fingertips was unimaginably sexy. It sent small jolts of electricity arcing over my skin.

“I told you, sleep naked.” My words came out breathless and husky. More seductive than sassy. The wordnakedlingered in the air, full of promise.

“Naked… You’re sure?” he whispered in my ear, his jaw lightly scraping my cheek. If his fingers had sent electricity shooting through me, the rub of his barely there scruff was a high-voltage lightning strike.

“Yes.” I moaned and turned my head. I needed to kiss him.

I cupped his jaw, holding him still, and pressed forward to explore his mouth. After learning the shape of his lips with my tongue, I tasted him.

With a hand at the small of my back, he pulled me closer. Our bodies twisted toward each other. The press of his hard chest to mine was thrilling. Heat radiated from him and soaked through the thin fabric of my dress. I dug my fingers into his thick, muscled biceps. If he stopped now, I’d die of wanting more.

I nipped softly at his bottom lip. A moan rumbled from deep in his chest and he clasped my waist, pulling me to straddle his lap. My ass settled onto his hard thighs, and I rocked forward, pressing shamelessly against his growing erection through our clothes.

“Tell me what you want. What feels good?” he whispered, his lips dancing over my collarbone.

“You.” I gasped when his tongue found the hollow at the base of my throat. I tipped my head back, my eyes closed, as a sensation like the best goosebumps I’d ever experienced ignited across my skin.

“Details, angel. All the hot, sweet, sexy details.” His command made my nipples harden and my body ache.

My brain was useless, drowning in a sea of need. What he asked was impossible. Actions were all I was capable of. I twisted my hands behind my back to undo my dress and bra. I shrugged the material off my shoulders and down to my waist. Nearly naked, I offered myself wordlessly to him.

“Ask,” he growled against my lips. The rough tone cut through my fog of desire and any lingering shyness.

“My breasts. Touch them. Tease them. Please.” I forced the words out. I had to have his mouth on me.

He moved before I finished my request. It was toe-curling, mind-bending pleasure. The suction of his mouth on my nipple stole my breath. He cupped one large hand over my other breast, teasing the tip. I leaned back. His arm at the small of my back held me. I was utterly safe in his arms.

I gasped his name and ground my soaking wet panties against his erection. My whole body quivered like a bowstring pulled taut, and I arched toward his glorious touch. He worshiped my too-small breasts like they were a bounty to be savored.

“So fucking beautiful.” He moved, kissing his way across my chest. The heat of his mouth closed around my other nipple, and I gasped. He sucked hard, and the white-hot sensation spread through me.

This wasn’t half-assed foreplay. He was committed. I think he’d have gone on for hours if I let him. But the thought of his talented mouth on the rest of my body was so fucking tempting.

I scraped my nails against his scalp in a wordless plea for more. I could scarcely believe the plaintive whimpering noises coming from me; they were nearly sobs. No man had ever gotten me this turned on so fast.

“Desperate?”

“Yes.” So desperate.

“I will only do as I’m told.” I felt more than saw the smile on his lips as he spoke. His mouth hovered an inch from my swollen nipple.

It was unfair. His demand compelled me to speak, to think when I didn’t want to. He was forcing me to be the architect of my own seduction. The man was cruel in the most incredible way, and it was intoxicating.

“Taste me.”

He licked up the valley between my breasts, ending at the base of my throat. “Delicious.”

“No.” Damn him and his devious rules. A fucking Boy Scout even in the bedroom—wanting permission.

“Tell me, angel. Be specific.” His hands swept down, holding my ass, massaging. So close to where I needed him but miles away.

“Lick my, my pussy.” I rushed the words out in a single breath. I couldn’t remember ever having asked so boldly for that. Saying the words made my core clench in anticipation even as my face heated with a blush.

“Fuck yes.”

He lifted me from his lap and settled me on the large, distressed-wood coffee table across from the couch. I felt like a sacrificial offering lying on the hard surface. He stripped away my panties and his shirt as he kneeled between my open legs. His chest was a sight to behold. A chiseled slab of marble brought to life. I couldn’t wait to touch it.

I scrunched up a handful of the silk dress tangled at my hips to reveal myself to his hungry gaze. He leaned forward and looked his fill, his eyes darkening with lust. My racing pulse pounded in every nerve ending, waiting for him to touch me. It felt like an eternity.

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