Page 24 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

She looked so delicate standing in his shadow, her hair catching the scant light. He skimmed his hands down her bare shoulders to her waist, molded the thin fabric of her tank top to the warm skin beneath.

Her soft sighs encouraged him, made his hands work faster to free her from the silky material that separated them. Lifting the hem up, he exposed the pale skin of her belly and the soft pink lace of a bra so sheer it was transparent. Tight rosy nipples thrust up against the garment, plainly seeking his attention. His mouth.

He bent to kiss the soft mounds of her breasts as he tugged her blouse free. Finally he found the source of her sweet vanilla scent tucked into the slight dip of her cleavage. He licked the place with his tongue, inhaling the fragrance deeply as it intensified.

His hands cupped the curves defined by the lacy pink bra, drawing first one tight crest and then the other closer to his lips so he could taste her through the fabric. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to her, steadying the pressure of his mouth. Just knowing she wanted his kiss that badly excited him all the more. He flicked open the front clasp of the bra, releasing her to his ready hands.

She was so perfect.

Her breath came in soft little pants, her fingers flying over his bare back with restless hunger. Need.

Hips twisting up against his, she wriggled as close to him as possible. He slid his thigh between hers, the heat of her sex pressing against him.

She was turning him inside out and he hadn’t even finished undressing her yet. It made no sense that Esmerelda Giles with her innocent ways, wide eyes and penchant for blind dates could get under his skin this fast. He couldn’t remember craving any woman the way he wanted Esme.

Sliding his hand down the slight curve of one hip, he skimmed down the front of her thigh and her long, filmy skirt. As his fingers walked south, they hiked up her skirt—inch by delicious inch. He unveiled her taut calves, her knees, the bare thighs he couldn’t wait to spread wide.

Finally, when one arm overflowed with the length of her skirt, he glimpsed the pink lace of her panties. For such a frothy piece of delicate material, those pink panties delivered a provocative punch.

He reached to touch, to graze his fingers over the sheer fabric and absorb her damp heat. She whimpered, her grip tightening on his arms.

Oh yeah.

Blood whooshed through his veins with molten force. He wanted to be inside her now. Five minutes ago. Yesterday.

He splayed his fingers wide between her legs, pressing against her thighs, the lacy edges of her panties, and the sweet folds of her sex hidden beneath pink lace. He dipped one finger below the material, circled the throbbing heart of her as her knees buckled.

She fell into him, the wall behind her not nearly enough to keep her upright. He would have found immense male satisfaction in that if he didn’t need her so badly at that moment.

Anchoring her with one arm against his body he lifted her, yanking the skirt and the pink lace down her quivering thighs and off her legs. She must have stepped out of her sandals on the way into the house because they were nowhere in sight.

He reached around her hips to steady her body, savoring the exquisite brush of her nakedness against him. Surely there was a bed nearby, but the first piece of furniture that caught his eye was a flat cherry sofa table polished to a dull gleam. Lifting her, he seated her there, deepening his kiss now that he had his hands free to touch her as much as he pleased.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down to her, her kisses lush and enthusiastic. Her back arched, breasts flattening against him while those the taut nipples teased him into paying attention.

Lowering his head, he drew one into his mouth while his fingers zeroed in on her clit, rubbing slow circles that made her writhe and shiver. As he stood between her spread thighs, her knees squeezed his hips, her legs drawing him closer with their restless movements.

He wanted to be inside her so badly it hurt, but he also knew once that happened he ran the risk of hurtling over the edge at light speed. If he wanted to ensure her complete satisfaction, he needed to help her find it soon. Now.

She broke their kiss long enough to reach for his zipper, to drag it down and release him from his denim captivity. Her fingers brushed the fly of his cotton boxers and sent heat leaping through him.

“Wait.” He held her wrist, halted the progress of the touch he’d dreamed about last night. This morning. “I want you too much already. Let me touch you.”

He relaxed his hold as he met her dazed stare, her blue eyes smoky with passion.

“Is that okay, Esme?” He slid one finger inside her, felt her whole body shudder. “Can I make you see stars?”

* * *

Esme blinkedpast the light already dancing through her vision. Her nerves sang with a pleasure she’d never known. Renzo’s fingers wrought delicious magic that reverberated through her whole body and more than anything she wanted to feel him deep inside her.

“I can touch you, and you can tell me what you like.” He stroked a thumb over her mouth, pressing lightly on the soft fullness of her lower lip. His other hand mirrored the action between her thighs. “I want to know just what you like.”

She cried out with the sharp pleasure of his touch, the sweet torment of his strong fingers. But she knew she couldn’t give him what he sought.

“I don’t usually--” She twitched beneath the wicked delight of his touch. “That is, I’ve never been able to--” She sucked on the thumb that teased her mouth, nipped him lightly with her teeth before letting him go. “Frankly, Renzo, I don’t really see stars with a man.”

She’d reconciled herself to the fact long ago. That didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy sex.

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