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“Nice.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again. “I’m not nice.”
She blinked, feigning innocence, fighting the urge to lick her lips in case she had whipped cream on them. Maybe that was why he kept staring so delectably at her mouth. “You’re not nice?”
“Hell, no.” To prove his point, he pulled her to him and placed his lips over hers. Apparently, if she’d had whipped cream on her, he planned to lick her clean.
He tasted of berries and wine and something exotically more intoxicating: him. She wanted to drink in every last drop. To drown in the flavor, in him.
He’d kissed her before, but this felt different. This felt more intense, more real, more needy, more.
She sipped his lips, matched the dance of his tongue, moaned when he pushed her back on the blanket and covered her body with his.
“Levi,” she breathed. Ribbet. Ribbet.
He didn’t answer with words, just supped on her mouth, threaded his fingers into her hair, shifted his body against hers until he pressed between her thighs. Until she moaned at the rhythm of their bodies moving against one another.
He trailed kisses down her throat, over her clavicle, pressing his tongue into every dip. She curled her fingers into his hair, his shoulders, down his back.
“Madison.” Her name was like music on his breath. A soft melody meant to entice, meant to seduce, meant to charm her into dancing to his tune.
Dance she did.
Beneath him, welcoming his weight, welcoming his touch, welcoming the increasing fervor of his body.
“I want you.”
She’d noticed that. How could she miss the evidence of his want pressing against her? How could she miss the urgency of his mouth skimming over her neck, her breasts?
When had he stripped her of her scrub top? Pushed aside her bra? When didn’t matter. Only that he had. Only that his mouth now did the most amazing things to her body, triggered the most titillating zings that zeroed in at the apex of her thighs and spread outward in magical waves.
She ran her fingers beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt, skimmed the smooth skin covering his back, dug into the bunched muscles as her belly clenched with pleasure.
“Levi.” Oh, Levi. She arched, wanting to be closer and closer to him, wanting more and more of her body to be drawn into the hot recess of his mouth.
Sensing her need, he lowered his mouth to her most intimate place and gave her what she wanted. She cried out, intense waves washing over her.
His look was so smug, so masculine, so arrogant in his abilities that Madison wanted to wield the same power over his body as he did over hers. She tugged on his T-shirt but only managed to pull the cotton over his head with his assistance.
“What are you doing, Madison?” he growled, staring down into her eyes.
“I want to feel you next to me, to touch you, too.” She wrapped her arms around his naked torso and pulled him back down to her, skin to skin. Her naked breasts were crushed against his muscled chest. She inhaled a sharp breath. Or maybe it was him. She couldn’t be sure. Just that the friction of their bodies together was electrifying. Wonderful. Amazing. Unbelievable.
Not nearly enough.
She wiggled her hips beneath his, wanting the same freedom with the lower half of her body. She managed to slip her fingers between them, grasp at the snap of his jeans, fumbled with his zipper.
“You should probably stop.”
If she hadn’t seen him speak, hadn’t felt the vibration of his words in his chest, she wouldn’t have known it was him who spoke. Never had she heard his voice so raspy, so strangled.
Never had she heard a sweeter sound than him affected by her touch.
Easing his zipper down, she pressed a kiss to his throat. “Why should I stop?”
“Because you’re making me lose what little control I have left,” he ground out.
Feminine power surged within her. This was Levi. Her dream guy. The guy she’d fantasized about for weeks and weeks. Had set her sights on as a playgirl, perhaps because that was the only way she could justify to her heart that she wanted him. And he was here, with her, had given her the most romantic evening of her life, was excited by her touch, and he wanted her. Really, really wanted her, judging by the hardness pressing against her hand.
And just like that she knew she didn’t want to stop.
