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“You should. A man like me could just come in and take what he wants….”
The words silenced when his lips closed over a nipple peeking through her unraveled bodice strings.
She groaned. “What kind of man are you?”
“One who can’t stay away from you. One who’d do anything to keep you—preferably like this.” His words were soft and shared intermittently as he gave the nipple a lengthy bathing with his tongue. His beautifully shaped lips took over next to suckle the bud dry.
Tielle arched into the act. Her fingers charted a trail over his bare forearms and the stunning breadth of his shoulders. They curved about his nape, scraping the fine, dark hair tapered there. She tried pushing more breast into his mouth, but he only seemed to want her nipple. Deliciously frustrated, she ground on his lap and smiled when he responded with a tortured groan.
Grae cupped her hip, gave a warning squeeze for her to stop. Tielle wanted him too much to cooperate. She’d been constantly reminded of the delightful interlude they’d enjoyed at his condo before family drama intervened. She was in no shape to take things slow.
Determinedly, she reached to undo his belt and slapped his hands then his chest when he tried to stop her.
“I won’t last long, Tel,” he warned as she resumed her task with his belt.
“Okay, then.” She plied his earlobe with a wet suckle, her hand locating the prize she sought inside his jeans. She smiled at that half tortured, half satisfied groan he uttered when she gave him a naughty squeeze.
“Grae, no,” she sobbed, when he clutched her waist as though he meant to pull her off his lap.
“To hell with it.” He left the lounge, taking her with him. The growled words signified his defeat, his inability to resist what she so clearly wanted from him and him from her.
Grae could feel her lips curving into a smile when she kissed his cheek and teased with a hint of her tongue. “You’re not cooperating.”
“I’ll make it up,” she taunted, outlining his mouth with the tip of her tongue. Devilishly, she evaded when he would have initiated a thorough kiss. She retraced the outline and then let her lips caress the corded column of his neck and collarbone.
Grae carried Tielle through the house like a man well familiar with his surroundings. Of course, he knew the place like the back of his hand. He’d fallen in love with his wife there.
Tielle felt no need to hang on to him. He had her secure, her bottom cradled snugly in his palms. Her palms ached to get beneath his T-shirt. She achieved her goal, shivering when her nails contacted the ridge of carved muscle packing his abdomen. She could feel him shiver, and she kissed his ear.
“Still ticklish?” she asked.
“I’ve never been ticklish.”
Lightly, she trailed the honey-toned muscular expanse of his chest and felt his hands flex almost painfully on her derriere. “You’re right. Not ticklish at all.”
“I see there’s only one way to shut you up.” Impressively, he cradled her in one hand while the other cuffed her neck, his thumb tipping her chin to position her to take his tongue.
Tielle caressed his back. Her hands were still hidden beneath his shirt. She treated herself to the dual luxury of his kiss and the flex and ripple of muscle beneath her fingertips.
Graedon savored his ex-wife’s incomparable talent for stroking his ego without saying a word. Her constant, breathy moans and gasping cries heightened his arrogance. He deepened the kiss as though he was intent on seeking out the source of those sensational sounds.
He took a back stairway two steps at a time. The path took him right to the floor of Tielle’s room, and they were crossing the threshold within minutes.
In a show of finesse, Grae took the liberty of drawing up the folds of Tielle’s dress until the material bunched at her hips—all while he held her.
“Take this off,” he told her.
She pulled the garment over her head and let it drift to the floor. Wearing only the panties he’d seen fit to keep her in, Tielle suddenly found herself tossed to the center of the bed. She supported her weight on her elbows and watched him. Lips parted, she had the look of a woman panting for the tasty morsel in her sights.
