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She reached out and ran her hand along the length of his erection, which was now prominent against his wet slacks. His eyelids went half-mast, pleasure at the simple touch vibrating through him like a sonic boom.
“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he rasped.
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice heavy with her own desire now.
He slipped his hand from her and brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her arousal as he stepped back to take in the full sight of her disrobing. God, every little part of her was even sweeter than he’d imagined—her taste, the scent of her skin, the soft want in her eyes. He didn’t deserve this, but hell if he wasn’t going to enjoy the unexpected gift.
Her focus stayed locked on him, her eyes flaring as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, and she tugged her boots off. Then, without any hesitation or modesty, she stripped out of her jeans and panties and then unhooked her bra. The lacy scrap fell to the floor. She stood before him, gloriously naked, and lowered her lashes. Waiting. Submissive.
His.
As Wyatt stepped forward, he felt the last semblance of resistance disintegrate inside him, like a flame to parchment. The man he used to be, the one he’d locked away inside himself, rose up from the shadows of his past and grabbed hold of the reins.
Dominant. Determined.
And ravenous.
God help them both.
CHAPTER NINE
Kelsey watched the change come over Wyatt with a touch of awe, his cool reserve switching to something wicked, predatory—a heavy coat falling away and revealing what lurked beneath. His laser-blue eyes devoured every inch of her naked body, raking over her in a way that made everything in her tighten and ache. And, to her relief, no fear or hesitation welled up in her. All the worries that were present that night preparing for Colby were blessedly absent. Instead, her chilled bones began to warm as he stepped closer.
“Undress me,” he said, his deep voice like a stroke to her skin.
“Yes, sir.” She lifted her hands to find them shaking ever so slightly and carefully worked the buttons on his wet dress shirt. She’d already been shamelessly staring at the ripples and bumps beneath the thin material, but pushing the shirt open and seeing his naked chest had her tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth. Sweet baby Jesus.
As she suspected, he was honed and hard—the exquisite body of an athlete hiding behind the trappings of a businessman’s attire. A dark smattering of chest hair tracked across his pecs and narrowed to a line down his abdomen, disappearing below his belt. She had the urge to lick his damp skin, to taste those flat nipples, and to trace that line downward. But he hadn’t given her permission, and she knew the rules.
She traced her hands down to his belt buckle, slowly dragging the leather through the metal, enjoying the way his cock twitched behind the fabric of his pants. Soon he’d be inside her, laying claim to her. Her sex clenched at the image, her body begging for what she’d so long imagined. What would it be like to be at his mercy? To give in to his will? No longer feeling patient, she unfastened his button and pulled down the zipper, getting onto her knees and pushing his pants and boxer briefs down in one swift motion.
His cock bobbed free, long and thick and so fucking gorgeous that she almost couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and caressing the sure-to-be-silky skin. She knew most women wouldn’t describe a man’s erection as such. But Kelsey couldn’t help but appreciate the pure primitive beauty of Wyatt’s arousal. Every part of him called to her.
“I like the way you’re looking at me, love.”
“May I touch you?” she asked, a little surprised by the breathlessness in her voice. Hell, she sounded like one of her subs, desperate and pleading. But she couldn’t bank her natural reaction to him.
“Yes.”
She rose up on her knees and took him in her hand, the heat of him almost searing her still-cold hands. He tensed a bit, and she winced, releasing him. “I’m sorry. My hands . . .”
He threaded his fingers along the back of her damp hair. “Then don’t use your hands.”
He guided her forward and she closed her eyes, dragging her cheek along the length of him, the smooth warmth sending a ripple of unadulterated desire through her. He loosened his grip on her, giving her free rein. She nuzzled the trimmed hair at the base of his cock, his masculine scent like a jolt of adrenaline to her own arousal, then she dipped down and ran her lips along his sac, earning a deep groan from him.
“Enough, love,” he said, his voice strained. “I promise to give you full access to explore and taste as you please at some point. But right now, I need something other than your pretty mouth.”
Reluctantly, she pulled away and lowered back to the floor to tug off his shoes and socks so she could remove his pants. He took her hand and helped her back to her feet, then tugged her against him. Steam rolled out from the top of the shower, cascading around them as he pressed a kiss to her mouth. The chill from their stint in the rain became more and more of a distant memory as his palms roamed her back and his tongue worked a slow, sensual dance against hers.
Rain pinged against the skylights, and time seemed to slow as he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her against him, holding her without breaking away from the kiss. His cock pressed against her belly, and her soft whimper was one of lost desperation.
He pulled back for a moment, his gaze tracing over her face, as if he didn’t quite believe she was here in his bathroom, naked and wrapped around him. She knew the feeling. “Water’s ready.”
And so was she. He set her back on her feet and pulled open the shower door. Jets were blasting from more than one spot, and the main showerhead was directly over top—raining down like the storm outside. He guided her in, the water blissfully warm against her, and laid a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Don’t get started without me.”
“Ha. I don’t know.” She turned into the water. “These showerheads look like they could be mighty effective. And you did make me wait all week . . .”
