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“Your hair is so soft.” Martin arranged it around my shoulders, his gaze dipping to follow the movement of his hands.
“Mmm.” Closing my eyes, I savored the warm glide of his skin over mine.
“Does that feel good?”
My lids fluttered open to find him watching me. “Yes.”
“You seem surprised.” Framing my face in his hands, he held me captive with his gaze. “Why? I know you feel what I do. The air sparks when I’m near you. Your skin catches fire at my touch.”
“I agreed to share my thoughts.” I would indulge me, him, this dangerous desire. “But I won’t give away my feelings.”
After all, that would be foolish. Once Martin truly had me, he would discard me like I was sure he had countless others.
“Wise and allowable for now.” He lowered his head, his breath hot like his gaze and spicy like cinnamon. Only a hint of what was yet to come, and already I yearned for more. “I’ve dreamed of tasting you.”
His mouth touched mine. Finally.
A bolt of desire shook me as he boldly moved his lips. I followed his lead. Twining my arms around his neck, I pressed my body against him and molded my mouth to his.
Martin swept his tongue inside my mouth. Heat blazed as he plunged it deep. I didn’t know what he thought I tasted like, but he tasted like those glimpses of himself that he’d given me.
Like need. Like yearning.
Like those things inside me.
“More. Give me more, Addy.” He repositioned, tilting his head in the other direction, and plunged his fingers into my hair. “You’re addictive, my dear.”
His lips fitting to mine, I whimpered as he stroked his wet tongue deep. Suddenly, he ripped his mouth from mine. His eyes blazing, he grabbed my hand.
“We’re going to the bedroom now.” His gaze heavily hooded, he swept it over me. “Any objections?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t think so.”
He led me down a hallway off the main living space. There was a carpeted runner over the hardwoods, a bathroom on the left, a bedroom on the right, and then we arrived at the end of the hall. He pushed the door open, lifted me in his arms, and in three strides deposited me unceremoniously in the middle of a massive four-poster bed.
I came up on my elbows to find him shrugging out of his jacket.
“Get out of that dress, or I’m fucking you with it on. Your decision.”
I struggled to come to terms with his abrupt change in demeanor. My lips were still buzzing from his kisses, my mind slow and foggy like I’d been drugged.
Clumsy, I fumbled for the back zipper, but gave up entirely trying to find it when he undid the last button on his shirt. It wasn’t only his true self he’d hidden away. Beneath those custom jackets and high-thread-count shirts was a torso as chiseled as a classical statue.
When my lips parted, his curved. “I don’t think you know the power you have over me.”
Me? I have power?
As if I’d voiced my thoughts out loud, he nodded. Staring at me, he removed one shoe and sock, and then the other.
“I shouldn’t allow it, but I don’t care. This one thing.” He stalked toward the bed on masculine feet that I found strangely arousing. “You, Addy. You are mine alone.” Urging me backward, he climbed over me. “Understand?”
I didn’t, but later I would.
He kissed me again, and I forgot about his declaration. I forgot everything but him, this, us together. The sensuous movements of his mouth. The thrusting of his hips and the urgent bucking of mine. The need.
“Martin.” I gasped when he whipped up my skirt. His hands were hot on my suddenly cool flesh. He ripped the lace and satin panties he’d purchased off me.
