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He slides a warm hand round the nape of my neck as his other hand pulls me against his stunningly hard body, teasing me, grabbing a fistful of my hair as he tilts my head to expose my neck. Slowly, his lips press against my sensitive skin. His teeth skim, and his tongue draws a sensuous line, which makes me shiver. He lets out a low groan as he tastes me and the sound funnels into me like pure, liquid lust.
The pulse between my thighs is making me crazy and my need for his mouth on mine has become an overwhelming desperation. I need this man like I’ve never needed anything in my life.
I want all of him. I want to wrap my legs around his waist as he pushes inside me.
His fingers edge the hem of my dress upwards, skimming over the lace of my panties, skating over my clit. I moan at the feel of his fingers’ warm, silky glide over the thin lace.
“Damn, Tex, you’re so fucking wet, baby girl. You want me bad.”
It’s slightly mortifying, but at the same time I don’t care. I’m too freaking horny. “Please,” I whisper, tilting my hips forward reflexively. I’ve gone crazy but I can’t help it. I’m lost in a rising haze of arousal. “Ace,” I moan as his fingers slide my panties to the side. My voice is breathy, pleading. My body has never felt so purely physical. I don’t care about anything except his strong fingers, which skate teasingly over the center of my universe.
He feels so good I exhale a soft gasp.
Oh my god.
This is already more intimate than anything that’s ever happened to me.
If he keeps doing that I’m going to come.
He kisses me and I bury my hands in his hair as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth in slow, synced rhythm with his fingers, which slide barely inside me, gaining slow, slippery entry. It hurts a little, but in a good way. In a deeply hot, torturous way.
The combination of the heady, erotic taste of him as he plays my body is stoking a wildfire pleasure that’s threatening to reach some crazy over-the-top peak.
I need to reach this peak more than I need my next breath. If he doesn’t give it to me I might lose my mind.
“Perfect girl,” he murmurs. “You’re so gorgeous. How do you want me to make you come first? With my fingers, just like this? Or with my tongue fucking you slowly. You feel so fucking good, I know you’re going to taste like the sweetest fruit on earth.”
“Ace. Please.”
I’m vaguely aware of the ding of the elevator. “Patience, Texas. We have all night.” His fingers slide free of me and he smooths my dress into place. Watching my eyes, he licks his fingers. “Come on, baby. We’re here.”
Ace pulls me by the hand into a private foyer. He swipes his key card and we enter the penthouse.
Even through my dazed lust I can still comprehend that it’s the most beautiful, luxurious space I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Here’s your view,” he says, pulling me toward the panoramic window. The sliding doors are open to the private balcony, letting in the balmy breeze.
“It’s so beautiful,” I gasp.
It really is.
The midnight-blue horizon melts into the ocean and, with no clear line between sea and sky, it feels like we’re at the edge of the world. Like we’re looking at an inky, velvet kingdom of waves and stars that’s all ours. It’s enough to take my breath away.
I expect Ace to stop, pour some drinks, to make small-talk for a while before we find our way back to each other, but he doesn’t. He comes up close behind me, so close that I can feel the heat of his body.
The lights in the room are dimmed and golden, but just bright enough to cast our reflections onto the window. Ace touches my shoulders with his palms and lets them coast slowly down my arms. It’s hypnotic, the slow movement and the feeling of my body coming alive under his touch.
His mouth lowers to the curve of my neck, where his lips graze my skin.
I lean into him, arching against him reflexively. His hands find my waist, caressing my hips, inching my dress up, his breath hot against my neck.
“Tell me what you want, Tex. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you,” I whisper. They’re words I’ve never said to a man before but I I’m feeling them hard.
His hands move to my breasts, gliding over the fabric of my dress, charting every curve and pausing at every flicker of a response. His fingers slip under the edge of my neckline and his breath gets heavier as he discovers I’m not wearing a bra. My nipples tighten between his fingers as he plays me with rough, gentle fingers.
With one hand still teasing my nipples, Ace’s free fingers slowly undo the tie that’s holding my dress together. The feel of his hands on my belly, my hips, my waist, with no barrier between us, makes me writhe with need.
