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Oh God . . . his fingers crept up the inside of her thigh. Light, teasing touches as he continued to kiss her belly. It was strangely erotic, seeing his head move under her skirt, feeling his mouth on her skin, his fingers, never really knowing where he would be next.
A low growl escaped him at the precise moment he touched the wet flesh between her legs. She gasped, her entire body going still, eyes falling shut when he stroked her. Back and forth, searching and then finding her clit within seconds, circling it in maddeningly slow circles.
She splayed her hands against the wall, trying to grab hold of something. Any
thing so she wouldn’t slide to the floor. He continued stroking her, one hand lightly gripping her hip, the other between her thighs. She spread her legs wider, the sound of her panting breaths filling the air, accompanied by Tate’s fingers caressing her slick flesh. He suddenly ducked his head out from underneath her skirt, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her.
All the air left her lungs as they stared at each other. His hand stilled, his fingers hovering over her sensitive flesh, and she shifted her hips. Lifted them as subtly as she could, hoping he’d get the message and continue what he was doing.
But he didn’t move, just kept staring at her. Like he was waiting for her to say something.
“You want to come?” he finally asked, the deep tenor of his voice reaching right into her and making her tremble.
She nodded, her throat as dry as sandpaper, making it impossible to speak.
“Say it, Dove. Tell me you want to come.” He touched her clit, a feather-light stroke that made her whimper. The bones in her legs went liquid, and she could feel herself slipping. Her knees buckled, but Tate held her firm, his fingers gripping her hip, his other hand sliding down the inside of her thigh. “I got you, baby. Tell me what you want.”
Wren shook her head. She couldn’t just ask for it, could she? No man had ever made her say it out loud before. Most of the men she’d been with were sexually proficient and pretty much could always get her there, but she’d gone through a serious dry spell lately. Reading romance novels on her iPad mini and occasionally putting her vibrator to work helped, but there was nothing like a real man’s hands. His mouth and tongue on her skin, his gaze devouring her like she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Talk to me.” His voice was soft, his touch equally so as he pushed the skirt of her dress up, over her hips so that it bunched at her waist. He dipped his head, his mouth grazing her right hip bone, making her shiver. “I won’t give you what you want unless you say it.”
Oh God, he was playing dirty.
And she liked it.
Chapter Fifteen
“PLEASE,” WREN FINALLY managed to squeak out, her eyes sliding shut as she turned her head to the side and pressed her cheek against the cool wall. His hands skimmed up and down her thighs, never touching her exactly where she wanted him, and she almost screamed in frustration.
She was so damn close, hovering on that delicious edge of orgasmic oblivion. She wanted to tumble right over it, fall into the climax she just knew would be amazing. That he could bring her so close in such a short time was like a miracle. Either the man was extremely skilled or she was beyond primed for this.
Probably more like a combination of both.
“Please what?” Tate pressed an openmouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, so close to the spot where she wanted him. What started out as passionate kissing went from reckless to beyond intimate in a matter of minutes. “I want to hear you ask for it, Dove. I liked the please bit, but I need more.”
He was evil. Sexy and evil and devastatingly handsome. When she said nothing, he flashed her a smile full of dimples, his eyes hooded and dark and full of delicious, tantalizing secrets. She parted her lips, trying to work up the courage to tell him what she wanted, when he touched his mouth to her skin once again. Higher this time, close to the crease where her thigh met her pelvis.
“I can smell you,” he whispered, and she whimpered, which only made him smile more. “You’re so wet for me, Wren.”
“Oh God, make me come, Tate.” The words burst from her throat, startling her. “Please.”
The smile faded, his eyes grew heated, and he leaned in once more, his mouth brushing her flesh. “With my mouth or my fingers?”
“Both. Both, please.”
She closed her eyes and sighed with exquisite relief when his mouth pressed there, exactly where she wanted it. His fingers slipped over wet flesh, two pushing inside as his lips worked her, sucking her clit. She braced her knees, cracking her eyes open so she could watch his dark head move between her legs, and that was when the dam broke.
Shudders swept over her as the orgasm hit her hard, making her cry out. He continued his ministrations, his fingers plunging deep, tongue swirling around her clit, his other hand grasping her hip. She trembled and shook as wave after wave swept over her, tugging her under, making her mind go blank. She could focus only on him, the rhythm of his fingers, the pull of his lips, the flick of his tongue.
Her hips bucked against him, and he pulled his face away from her, his fingers still buried inside her body, his lips shiny. Their gazes met, locked, and she watched in mute fascination as he licked his lips as if he savored the very taste of her. Slowly, without a word, he rose to his feet until he towered over her. His hand curled around her nape, and he lowered his head, his mouth brushing hers. She could taste herself, but it didn’t bother her. She deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling, his other arm coming around her and pulling her away from the wall.
“My bed,” he growled against her lips. “Now.”
Wren let him walk her backward into his bedroom, trusting that he wouldn’t steer her wrong. He pulled her dress up and over her head, tossing it on the floor. His eyes heated when he caught sight of her breasts—she wore no bra. She thrust her chest out, thrilled at his perusal. She stood in front of him completely naked while he was still fully dressed.
Courage filling her, she told him, “Sit on the bed.”
He did as she asked, his legs spread wide in that way men had, his erection thrusting against the front of his black basketball shorts. Slowly she approached, letting him look his fill, and oh, how he did. His gaze seemed to bounce everywhere, from her face to her breasts to her stomach to her legs. Smiling, she swung her leg over both of his and straddled him, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts in his face. His thighs were hard and thick with muscle, and before she could settle her butt on them, his hands were there, clutching her cheeks, pulling her so close she sucked in a breath.
