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Gradually, he bared her to the waist and removed her shirt.
His gaze settled on her naked breasts. “Perfection,” he said, his voice all low and rumbly. He touched her nipple with a single fingertip. Heat streaked through her body.
“Wynn...”
“What, Fliss?”
“Hurry. Please. I’m dying here.”
His grin was pure wickedness. “Anticipation is part of the fun.”
She dragged him close. “Not today.”
When she kissed him wildly, he muttered a curse and lifted her off her feet. She was half-naked, but not naked enough. Suddenly, he set her down and they were grasping at snaps and buttons and zippers.
Wynn dragged her jeans and panties to her knees. She kicked out of them and helped pull his shirt over his head.
She got a little woozy at her first glimpse of his chest. The boy she once knew had turned into a honed, muscled, physically beautiful man, a man in every way. “I forgot how gorgeous you are,” she said, as she pulled his head down for another kiss.
Wynn tumbled her backward onto the bed and came down on top of her. The skin stretched taut over his cheekbones. His eyes glittered with hunger. “I didn’t forget anything.”
He rolled aside long enough to grab protection from the bedside table and then came back to her. “I’d like to make this last, but I think we’re working on borrowed time.”
“Just do it,” Felicity said. “Now.”
Wynn moved between her legs, laughing at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
She thought he would enter her quickly, but no. The diabolical man toyed with her emotions and her body, easing in slightly and withdrawing. She arched her back. “What are you trying to do?” she wailed.
His gaze bored into hers, as serious as a prayer. “Drive us both crazy,” he whispered.
If that was his aim, it worked. He destroyed her. In ten minutes, he had her panting and whimpering and begging. Every time she thought he was ready for the main event, he hesitated, stroked, kissed.
Fire built in her belly and rose to her chest. Her breasts ached. Her sex clenched in endless yearning.
Wynn’s face was all planes and angles, not a hint of humor or lightheartedness in sight now. His chest rose and fell with the force of his ragged breathing, but he maintained control.
That was something the younger Wynn hadn’t mastered.
“I want you,” she said, willing him to give her what she so desperately needed.
“How much?” he asked through gritted teeth.
She bit the side of his neck. “Enough to beg. Please, Mr. Oliver. I want your huge, beautiful—”
He slammed his mouth over hers, kissing her desperately. In the same instant, he penetrated deep, filling her so perfectly that tears wet her eyes. She blinked them away, not willing to miss a single nanosecond of pleasure.
Wynn’s gaze went hazy. “Fliss,” he groaned.
They were joined as one. Again. After fifteen long years.
But it was only sex.
She shoved the thought aside and lifted into his thrusts. The giddy rush of joy built and built and built until she cried out his name and climaxed in a rush of heat that burned away her reservations and left nothing but peace.
