Page 78 of Rogue Wave

I looked skyward as if deep in thought, and put my pointer finger on my lips. “I like your big hands and how they feel rough against my soft skin.”

At that comment, his hands moved from my face, slowly down my neck and arms to my elbows, and then over to my waist, where they settled.

“Anything else?”

His eyes flared as he looked his fill over my body. This man had a sinful mouth with magical lips that could render me incapable of anything else while he kissed me.

I knew what he was fishing for, but I wanted to have a little fun teasing him.

Tonight, I was a woman on a mission, and that mission was Hank. Naked. And on top of me.

First, I needed to think about safety. I swiveled and reached around to turn the burner off on the stove and move the pot to a cool side.

Dinner be damned, because I had other plans for the immediate future.

“Nope, sorry. I think that’s all the good parts.” I shrugged with an innocent smile.

“Is that so?” The smile on his face was wickedly erotic, and he knew it too. Like he’d practiced in front of a mirror a few hundred times.

He moved his hands southward, running his fingers over the seam of my jeans at my core.

“I can’t think when you do that.”

“Do what?” he asked as he rubbed deliciously over my clit, and my hips jerked to be closer to his touch.

I wasn’t above begging when it came to sex. I knew what I liked and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

Swiftly, he moved his hands to the back of my thighs and lifted me.

I yelped at the sudden movement and wrapped my legs around his waist. “Hank!”

He carried me as though I was light as a feather back to the bedroom, with me giggling the entire way.

He plopped me down on my bed with his body following to hover over me.

I didn’t even have a chance to respond before his lips were on mine.

The kiss was slow and teasing. My arms moved of their own volition, wrapping around his neck—my brain’s way of making the kiss last longer.

Just as I was desperate for air, he pulled back and stood at the edge of the bed.

The raw look in his eyes and the way his hands reverently stroked up and down my skin sent chills up and down my spine. His fierce gaze felt like he was committing every inch of me to memory.

He reached behind his neck and grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it over his head. I didn’t know why it was so sexy when guys did that, but it was.

In an instant, he moved to my jeans, unbuttoning them and ripping them off as if he did that for a living. Then, he scooped me up into a sitting position and removed my sweater.

In two blinks, I had been stripped to my bra and underwear. Another blink later, those were gone too, his fingers unhooking my front-clasp bra, while the other hand slid my underwear off and flung them to the floor.

With Hank, there were two ways of having sex with him, and that was it. He either took his time and made slow, sweet love to me while he explored every single millimeter of my skin with his mouth in the most unhurried way, or he fucked me hard and fast with abandon. There was no in between. And I found that I loved both.

If I was feeling hot and heavy and he wanted slow, he would usually let me do my thing first, ravishing his body till kingdom come. Then, once I came, he would take over in the way he wanted it to be done in order to finish the job.

I loved it, and I knew I had already fallen in love with this man. Now it was time to show him. Before I could do or say anything, he pulled my legs to the edge of the bed and lowered his body. His mouth moved to the crux of my thighs, and his tongue swiped up, sending me into the stratosphere.

“Hank,” I called out with a mild shriek.

My back arched off the bed while my fists gripped the comforter like my life depended on it.