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Mikayla's neck arched as his lips came to hers again, his kiss hungrier, hotter, than ever before.
It was going to happen, she thought. Her ideal of romance had been shot to hell. The white dress she had planned was dust in the wind.
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Would antique white work? she wondered, because she wasn't about to deny herself this.
She wanted to touch him. All of him. All over.
His hair-roughened thigh stroked against her softer one as she ran her foot up his lower leg, feeling the strength, heat, and soft male hair against her foot. She hadn't known her feet could be so sensitive.
But she had known her neck was sensitive. Still, when his lips brushed down it, moved from her lips, she couldn't halt the cry that escaped her lips. She wanted to rub her entire body against him.
His shoulder tasted of a hint of salt, a lot of hard, vibrant male, and of life. The taste of his flesh was almost an aphrodisiac, drawing her further into the sensual vortex wrapping around her.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he groaned as his lips brushed along her skin, moving unerringly to the swollen curves of her breasts. She didn't know what she was asking for?
"Everything you have to give me," she demanded, her head grinding against the pillow as his hands cupped her breasts, lifting them as his mouth descended on one hard, violently sensitive nipple.
"Look at me, Mikayla." His tone was darker, rougher. Forcing her eyes open, Mikayla stared into the pale blue flames of hunger in his gaze.
"You don't want everything," he whispered, his cheek brushing against her nipple.
"Everything." No matter how dark, no matter how lusty. She wanted all of him. His eyes narrowed on her, his tongue licked out, stroking over her nipple a second before his lips covered it, drawing it into the liquid fire of his mouth. Mikayla arched, her arms wrapping around his neck to hold him to her as she felt one hand move from her breast to her thigh. She tried to pay attention; she really did. She needed to have an idea of what to do to him when she got the chance. What would make him crazy. Deirdre said it could be done that way. That men would sometimes touch how and where they liked being touched.
If that was true, then she was doomed to failure.
What was he doing with his mouth on her nipple? The way he suckled it, the way his teeth and tongue rasped over it, was making her insane. The deep drawing strokes were sending sharp bolts of sensation tearing into her belly, her clit. She was helpless beneath him. Mikayla hadn't imagined pleasure could be so sharp, so deep. As his lips moved from nipple to nipple, caressing and tormenting each in turn, she found herself growing desperate for more. More touch. More pleasure. Her fingers dug into his hair, holding on to the strands as his hips rolled between her thighs, the hard wedge of his cock pressing into her lower stomach. The pleasure was extreme. It rolled through her in waves of sensation too strong, too shocking, to assimilate as his lips moved from her breasts, lower, down her stomach, then to her thighs.
"You think you can handle it, little innocent?" he growled as his lips brushed over her thighs.
"Anything you want to dish out." Lightning was going to strike her dead for that lie, because just the feel of the ends of his hair brushing along her thighs was throwing 101
her senses into chaos.
That amused quirk of his lips was almost worth the lie, though. It was so sexy, wicked, dominant.
And just that quick sensation speared along her clit, jerking her body to high alert and drawing her knees up along his hips.
"Good?" he asked.
Good? His fingers were milking her clit. Gently she gave him that. But the effect was catastrophic. She would have retaliated if she had enough of her brain left to figure out how to retaliate.
Instead, her fingers tightened in his hair as her hips arched, driving her clit closer to his lips instead.
His lips stroked along either side of it, brushing her thighs, sparking flames along each nerve ending he encountered.
"That's not fair," she moaned.
"Fair would have us on opposite sides of the earth, sugar," he crooned as his tongue swiped against her flesh. "Do you want me to play fair?"
"No." Her head shook quickly. If he left her now, she might have to actually turn into the bitch her brothers swore she was becoming.
"Then what should I do?"
"Taste me."
Mikayla froze. Nik even froze, as though the very idea that she had said such a thing stopped the world on its axis somehow.
