Page 57 of One Midnight Kiss

22

NATALIA

Ialmost sank into him when I felt his mouth on mine, pushing away the thoughts that were screaming in my mind, screeching to be heard. I didn’t want to think about all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this. I just wanted to do it.

I wanted to lose myself in him, surrender to the temptation of his lips and hands.

My fingers bunched up in his shirt as I leaned into him. The room spun for a moment as I stood on my tiptoes to meet his heady kisses. Flashes of white exploded behind my eyelids as he reached down and grabbed my ass. I could feel his hard length pressing into me. There was something frustratingly charming about his confidence, an infuriatingly seductive quality about his scent.

I returned his kiss with a fervor ignited by our silent war of words. My mind was foggy, clouded with a haze of desire and frustration. The way he held me against the wall, his muscular body pressing into mine, it was both comforting and intimidating. I could feel his strength. That normally would be something that intimidated me, but it didn’t.

I couldn’t say I actually knew the man, but I trusted him. Suddenly, he picked me up. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he walked me across the room. “What are you doing?” I asked against his lips.

“Bed.” His answer was simple.

He gently put me down and stepped back. There was a little voice in the back of my mind telling me this was my chance to thank him and then leave. I could stand up and walk out of the room.

But I didn’t want to.

I craved him. Instead of doing what I knew I should have done, I lifted my arm and slid down the zipper at the side of my dress. I stood up and took it off, revealing the matching black lace bra and panties.

The dress pooled around my feet. I watched his gaze as it swept over me, drinking in every inch of skin exposed. He took a step toward me, eyes darkening with lust. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, humming with anticipation.

His fingertips traced a path down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky and low. His compliment struck me. It was honest. Sincere. It wasn’t just pretty words.

When he called me beautiful I believed him.

“Your turn,” I said somewhat shyly.

I could be a boss bitch at work, but this was different. I was ready to surrender.

He pulled off his shirt, not bothering to mess with the buttons. He stepped out of his pants and stood before me in just a pair of tiny, tight briefs that left little to the imagination. I practically swallowed my tongue looking at him.

He reached out, cupping my face in his hands. This time, our kiss was slow, deep. Intense. His hand slipped into my hair, gently knotting his fingers in the tangles. His other hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. The delicious pressure of his body pushed against mine was overwhelming.

I could feel myself getting lost in the feeling of him. A soft sigh escaped my lips as he slid his hand down my back, tracing the line of my spine, dipping beneath the waistline of my panties. His fingertips danced over the sensitive skin.

“Are you sure?” he asked, pulling back just enough that our eyes could meet.

“Yes,” I whispered against his lips. His sigh of relief mingled with mine as he reclaimed my mouth.

He pushed me gently onto the bed, his lips never leaving mine. I lay back, pulling him with me. The scent of him filled my senses, a heady combination of cologne and man. His skin was hot against mine, sending jolts of electricity through my veins. I knew he had a nice body, but getting to feel him, skin to skin, was better than any fantasy I might have had.

His mouth traveled down my neck, nipping and biting, marking me as his own. I gasped at the new sensation, arching my back to press myself further into him. His hand released my hair, trailing down to unhook the clasp of my bra. He jerked it down my arms and tossed it to the floor. His mouth went to my breasts, first one, then the other.

He took his time with each one, drawing out a soft, low moan from deep within me. His mouth was hot, relentless. Every flick and swirl of his tongue against my sensitive flesh sent violent shockwaves racing through me. I buried my fingers into his hair, clutching at him as he continued to feast on me.

“Don’t stop, Fox,” I whimpered, gasping for air as he moved lower down. He kissed a path down my stomach, stopping briefly to dip his tongue into my navel, causing me to squirm beneath him. His touch was rapidly stripping away any remaining fragments of control.

Then he was at the waistband of my panties. And instead of pulling them off like he had done with everything else, he paused and looked up at me. I could see the question in his eyes, asking for permission even though he knew I would give it.

“Yes,” I breathed out. “Please.”

His gaze never left mine as he slowly hooked his fingers into the sides of my underwear, pulling them down my legs with deliberate slowness. I lay bare beneath him, every inch of me on display. A soft groan tore from his throat as he took in the sight of me. He was relishing the sight of me just as much as I had enjoyed gazing at his perfectly chiseled form.

I watched as he discarded my last piece of clothing to join the rest on the floor and then he was back over me, skin against skin. The sensation of being this close to him, this intimate, made me feel bold and breathless all at once.

With a smooth movement that made me feel like he had all the time in the world, Fox was back to claiming my lips in a scorching kiss while his hand began to wander again, down and down until his fingers found the tender spot between my thighs. I gasped against his mouth, my back arching off the bed as he explored me. Every touch of his fingers sent a jolt of pleasure through me, stirring up an ache that had me writhing beneath him.