Page 25 of Herding Cat

“No need to be shy. Not with me.” He stared at her, despite her flinch. “You are lovely.”

“I was lovelier when I was twenty,” she grumbled. “Gravity sucks.”

In response he cupped her breasts, which were full and supple, and measured them. “Perfect.”

“Not hardly.” But it was a grudging admission.

He passed a thumb over each nipple and she closed her eyes and hissed out a breath. “Do you like that?”

A pointless question. He knew she did. So he did it again. And then he lowered his head and tasted a nipple. And the other. And God, she tasted sweet.

He stepped closer, backing her toward the bed. He wished he’d made it that afternoon, when he awoke, but he hadn’t. With one hand, he ripped the jumbled covers onto the floor. They wouldn’t need them.

And then he eased her down, levering himself over her.

Ah. He loved her like this, looking up at him with her eyes wide, lips parted in anticipation—

“Can we turn off the lights?”

His belly plunged. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to see me.”

“How will I know what I’m doing?” An attempt at a joke, but not a very good one. He didn’t want to turn off the lights. He wanted to see everything.

“I’m nervous.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m nervous about.”

“Cat. You’re a very desirable woman.”

“You haven’t seen my scars.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

Her brow quirked. “You have scars?”

Oh no. “You’re not changing the subject.”

“Which is?”

“How gorgeous you are.”

“Oh, brother.”

“I’ve wanted you forever. Ached for this. Try to pay attention while I ravage you.”

She laughed at that, which gratified him. “Are you going to ravage me?”

“Absolutely.”

Also, enough talking. He settled beside her and took her lips in a kiss, essentially shutting her up, and then he proceeded to explore her perfection. Her skin was soft, all over. He stroked her neck, her flank, her arms and her shoulders. He let his mouth wander as well, tasting her and nipping here and there. While she was distracted, he undid her jeans and slipped a hand inside. He eased down to the swell of her mons and stroked her gently through her panties.

Her breath quickened. Her hold on him, her manic, savage hold on him, tightened.

He lifted his head and stared into her eyes as he slipped beneath the elastic of her panties and touched her clit. Hard. Damp. Engorged. He teased it, circled it, toyed with the underside until she began to writhe.