I try to focus, try to think as my senses become overwhelmed by him. “For…consummation purposes,” I manage to breathe out, proud of myself for coming up with such a logical excuse under such pressure.
He hums thoughtfully as his head dips down to my ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you.”
“You’re quite sure of yourself,” I say breathlessly, noticing the dark desire in his eyes.
His hand suddenly reaches out, snatching at my thigh, and he hoists it to his hip so that he can slip his leg between mine, pulling our bodies so close there’s barely a place we aren’t touching.
“I have every reason to be.”
I gasp and it’s suddenly a game. His eyes are clearly transfixed by my lips, and I want to put them all over his skin. But I can’t move first, can’t be the first to concede.
“Then get me out of this fucking dress.”
It’s unnerving in the best way how quickly he manhandles me, spinning me in an instant and pressing my front into the cool glass hard enough for another gasp to escape my lips. His hands make quick of the dress, and I shiver as it falls to the floor.
He releases me, stepping back as I turn to face him.
His expression is positively primal as he takes me in. “You were right.”
I quirk an eyebrow and step forward with more confidence than I feel. “About what?”
“This is far more agreeable.”
I know the game is going to end the second he reaches for me. And I let it, surrendering to the moment in front of me.
Hands tangle in my hair as he pulls it from my face, anchoring me there as he dips his head. There’s nothing chaste or respectable about this kiss. It’s filled with pure, unrestrained desire.
And I hate how easy it is to lose myself to the sensation.
His lips move against mine in perfect tandem with my own, as if we already know this particular dance, as if my body instinctively knows his.
Which is entirely impossible, except it’s absolutely insane at the same time.
“Fuck,” he breaths across my lips, pulling me impossibly closer, and yet not close enough at all.
His hands are like shackles, firm and large, skimming over every part of my body, holding my neck, my arms, my waist. He finally grips my ass so firmly that I have to stifle a groan.
All the while, his tongue explores mine with that same strange familiarity. I’m locked in battle, desperate to taste and taste and taste.
I bite down on his bottom lip, and suddenly, his hands drop down to my thighs, and I’m being hoisted up.
I’m a little proud that I don’t shriek at the sudden loss of balance. I do, however, moan as I wrap my legs around his waist and feel just how hard he is beneath me.
The sound makes him kiss me harder, and his hands grip my thighs even more firmly. It’s decisively a very, very possessivegesture and one that makes my heart flutter along with the lust already aching between my legs.
Luckily, Leon seems in no mood to delay our combined relief, walking us back over to the—quite frankly, enormous—bed.
He deposits me on the sheets, and then, with a groan of annoyance that could have been his or mine for all I can tell at this point, he steps back.
“Look at you,” he growls to himself as his eyes bore into my nearly-naked body sprawled before him. The dress hadn’t required a bra, but my thong was still traitorously covering my most intimate self.
I watch as Leon makes quick work of his shirt buttons, still staring at me with an intensity that makes my insides squirm.
There’s too much heat in that look, too much ofeverything.There’s no way I can survive just lying here without any kind of relief.
My hand reaches down between my thighs and pushes my thong to one side.
“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice comes out half-choked, and it’s suddenly hard to see where the chocolate of his irises ends and his pupils begin.
