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“Exactly.”
I felt the heat intensify as he lowered his head that tiny bit and his tongue swept over my slick folds. A small cry tore from my lips. The tip of his tongue fluttered over my clit. Once again I fought the urge to thrash on the bed, though my hips bucked and my pulse shot through the roof.
“Oh, Christ. Dane. I—oh, God … I—” Fire raged through my veins.
I came hard, the deepest, darkest moan wrenching from low in my throat.
I was suspended in a weightless, motionless state for endless seconds. So mind-blowing. Absolutely breathtaking.
Thoughts didn’t exist in my head. Sensation reigned. Emotions swelled. I couldn’t remember what had happened the day before. I didn’t care what would happen tomorrow.
All that mattered was Dane—and the way he made me feel in those few glorious moments. The way I wanted to make him feel.
I had no idea how long it was before I returned to myself. But when I did, I s
till had a voracious need for him.
“Take everything off,” I said of his clothes and my lingerie. My chest rose and fell quickly and I was limp from a fantastic orgasm. But the intense desire to crawl all over him and bring him the sort of pleasure he brought me was unrelenting.
He whisked off my bra and panties. He undressed himself swiftly as I, his captive audience, watched with lust thrumming through me.
Dane was hard. Before he’d even settled on the bed again I rolled onto him and straddled his lap. He let out a sexy laugh.
“I like you so aggressive,” he said.
“It’s more of a desperate need than aggression.” As I eyed his hunky body and desire flashed through me, I added, “Actually, I have a better idea.”
I climbed off him and the bed. Dane’s brow dipped.
I backed toward the door and crooked a finger. He sat up and stood.
“Come with me,” I said.
His look turned lascivious, exciting me more.
“What are you up to?” he asked in his low, arousing tone.
When he closed in on me, I grabbed his hand. “Let’s get nasty.”
I continued out of the room and down the wide hall, walking backward as his gaze remained on me and he followed.
We reached the spare bedroom and I stepped inside, relinquishing his hand. The candles were still scattered about and I found the igniter to light some of them. Then I asked, “Where’s the satin sheet?”
He pulled the folded rich navy material from the nightstand drawer and snapped it open, covering the bed. “Freshly laundered.”
I scanned the ledge of the headboard and found the bottle of frankincense oil still there.
His gaze followed mine, and he said, “I told Rosa to leave this room be. I had the sheet dry-cleaned but left everything else as is. Well, except for the rose petals. I had to toss them.”
“I was mostly interested in the oil,” I told him with a coy smile.
Crossing the room to where he stood, I gave a gentle push against his pectoral ledge. He fell onto the mattress, taking me with him. I sat astride his midsection and reached for the bottle.
“My turn,” I said as I drizzled the lovely scented oil over his chest. I returned it to the table and ran my hands over his hard muscles and ripped abs. Across his shoulders and down to his bulging biceps, my fingers and palms sliding along his elbows to his forearms.
Clasping his wrists and raising them above his head, I rocked slightly against his ridged stomach.
“You know that makes me crazy,” he said in a tight voice.
