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“Try me.”
The chemistry that had been building since day one exploded inside him, and he pressed her up against the door before he could think. Not thinking worked for him. She’d given him permission to feel and he planned to.
Mouth on hers, he angled her head in a fiery kiss that flowed through him, hot, molten. When she added her tongue, he sucked it in greedily. Sensation cleaved across his flesh as she worked that steel bar.
He had so many fantasies about that thing. Where to start?
Her lush little body didn’t fit against his the way he wanted, so he wedged a hand under her thigh and boosted her higher against the door until his raging erection slid into the valley between her thighs.
She moaned in a register that drove him insane. When she felt pleasure, she let him know. That was powerful, and it burst open something inside him. He wanted more of that, more of her under his mouth, more of her crying out his name.
But they were still in the hall. Because he hadn’t yet committed.
It was time to take this behind closed doors.
Scrabbling with the plastic in his hand, he somehow got it into the slot without letting go of her. The door swung open, and just so there was no opportunity for either of them to throw down another roadblock, he picked her up to carry her across the threshold. It was symbolic, maybe more for him than her, but her feminine sigh unfolded something inside him as he kicked the door shut.
When he laid her out on the bed, he meant to immediately dive back into the kiss he’d had to cut short with the room entrance logistics. But he paused for a half second to drink her in, because she was a stunning sight, lounging there on the bedspread wearing that simple white dress. She’d put it on for no other reason than because she wanted to please him.
She had. She did. Constantly, even when they were crossing swords. A lot of times, he didn’t even care if he won the battle because the act of fighting it turned him on. It should bother him. How messed up was that? But everything about her turned him on, and he was done resisting it.
But before he could get started on the million or so fantasies he’d lined up in his mind, she rolled to her knees and reached for his belt buckle, drawing him closer as she peered up through her lashes. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
His shaft grew impossibly harder, and it took a supreme amount of will to gather his faculties enough to still her hands. She’d already gotten his belt unbuckled and had started to pull it from its mooring.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “That’s not what I want.”
Obviously his meaning did not compute, because she cocked a brow and broke free of his hold to yank the belt completely off. “In case I’m not being clear, I’m going down on you. Right now.”
“I wasn’t confused.”
His eyelids shuttered closed as she trailed her fingers across his erection. Her touch through his clothes felt like liquid fire, and he nearly came at the thought of her mouth on his flesh. The real thing would probably be the death of him, but he wasn’t going to find out. Not at this moment, anyway.
What she wanted was to stay in control. She wasn’t going to get her wish.
The sound of his zipper sliding open put a little more urgency in that thought. Encircling her wrists, he drew her quick fingers away from his body. “Stop, Trinity. As good as I’m sure that would be, that’s not what I fantasize about.”
Bewilderment marred her face. “Really? Not ever?”
He groaned. “Of course I’ve thought about it. I’m not the Goody Two-shoes you seem to think I am. But neither am I a selfish ass who only thinks about how great it would be to have a woman go down on me.”
“You’d be in a small minority of one,” she muttered. “I have to ask. What in the world do you fantasize about then?”
Now they were talking. He eased her backward on the bed, still holding her wrists, until they hit the bedspread. Nuzzling her neck, he held her hands captive as he lightly sucked on her skin, diabolically pleased with the gasp that burst from her throat.
“I fantasize about being the man you moan for,” he murmured against her skin. “The one who makes you come so many times, you don’t remember what it’s like to be with anyone else. I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of sex in your life, Trinity. But you’ve never been with me before, and I guarantee you this will be nothing like any of those times.”
“So it’s a competition thing?”
That was so not it. But neither did he know how to be someone other than who he was. He liked to feel something inside when he made love to a woman. A connection. His gut told him the surest way to get that with Trinity was to not let her do things the way she always did.
