Page 78 of Double the Redemption

His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans, and the friction of Naomi arching into him, rubbing her covered pussy against him, nearly had him coming in his jeans.

Desperate to get himself under some kind of control, he lowered to her neck, nibbling, suckling, and tasting her with his tongue. She gasped, turning her head to give him more room, and her nails dug into his ribs as she trembled.

When he reached her collarbone, he ran his hands up her shirt, slowly lifting it while listening to the cues of her body. He didn’t want to scare her. Knowing what she’d suffered, he never wanted her to be frightened of him.

Her body trembled, skin pebbling with goosebumps as the air hit her bare flesh.

“Ink,” she breathed, nerves simmering just beneath the surface, but desire and desperation were overtaking them.

“If you want me to stop, baby, all you have to do is tell me,” he murmured, lifting his head to look at her.

“No,” she rasped, tone fierce.

His lips curved. There she was. The woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. He watched her carefully as he leaned back, slowly pulling the shirt over her head. She didn’t resist, but the flush covering her skin couldn’t be ignored. It started on her face, moved down her neck and along the top of her chest. Her fingers twitched, her arms lifting before slamming back down and gripping the cushions, giving him the full view he craved.

Him? He’d lost his breath.

The sexy lace bra from this morning looked far better now than it had then. Maybe because she was no longer trying to hide herself from him. Her nipples were hard, straining against the fabric, and he desperately wanted to see them for himself.

He brushed a gentle kiss along the upper swell of her right breast, lifting his gaze when she took a sharp intake of breath.

Her lashes fluttered as she looked down at him, eyes bright with desire. He saw no fear, only need. He repeated the same move on the other breast, his hands gliding along her ribs until they settled beneath the cups.

“Do you know how much I love this bra?” he murmured, pressing more kisses along the cleft between her breasts.

“I got a feeling when you looked at me this morning.” She shifted restlessly beneath him. “It’s just a bra. I’m sure you’ve seen sexier.”

He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. “Rule number one, baby. When we’re in bed, we don’t discuss other people. The only people in this space are you and me. The only ones who matter are you and me.”

Her eyes slammed shut. “I’m sorry, I’m screwing this up,” she whispered.

Shit. That hadn’t been his intention. No, he wasn’t going to let this screw everything up. He had to get this back on track.

“Open your eyes for me, baby.”

Slowly, she opened them, gaze flitting over him, searching.

“You’re not screwing anything up.” Easing up, he pressed a gentle, soothing kiss to her mouth. “You and me, we need to find our groove. And that means I need to remember that you don’t have the experience I do. And the last thing I want is you in this bed, comparing yourself to someone else. Someone who has no bearing on you and me.

“We’ll find our groove and what we need from each other. When we do, we’re going to be unstoppable. But right now, the only thing I want to focus on is making you feel so damn good that big brain of yours shuts off for a bit and you’re only focused on feeling.”

He scooted down so he could press a kiss to the swell of her right breast again, just along the seam of the lace covering her. He listened to the hitch in her breathing as he used his chin to lower her bra, exposing her hardened nipple to his view.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t stop him, watching him with wide, glittering eyes. Her skin pebbled and her body trembled. He hoped it was from excitement and desire, not fear, but he was ready to show her she had nothing to worry about.

“Do you know how many times I’ve jacked off to thinking about sucking these pretty tits?” he rasped, running his tongue around her nipple, making her gasp and arch into him.

“Ink.” It was a breathy, needy sound.

He couldn’t wait to hear her say his name like that over and over again—and one day when he was deep inside her—so he repeated the motion, giving her what she needed.

“I imagined you just like this, gasping my name, bucking, and begging me for more as I sucked on them,” he murmured, then turned his head to give the other nipple the same attention.

“Ink, please.”

“Patience, baby. I need to see what you like. What makes you wet and needy for me.” He wrapped his lips around her left nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Her moan was deep and throaty, her hand threading through his hair and holding him in place as she arched and ground herself against him.

It was the best fucking torture of his life.