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“The rules,” he says, his voice rough and gruff. “We broke rule number five.”
My brain races, spins, and I work to quiet it. “Remember how we replaced your rule for not sleeping with your ass
istant with ten new rules?”
“Are you suggesting we replace the no-kissing rule with something else?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, what do we replace it with?”
“No expectations,” I say. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even bat an eyelash. If he wanted more from me, wouldn’t he have reacted? Bevey can’t be right.
“Fine,” he says. He continues to stare at my mouth, and I resist the urge to squirm. What is going through his head? His gaze lifts slowly, and as the black in his eyes bleed into the blue he asks, “Want to get out of here?”
Before I can answer, he’s standing and taking my hand. People blur around me as he quickly guides me through the crowd, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so intense before. We get in his car, and less than ten minutes later, we’re entering his villa. As soon as I step through the door, he locks it and pushes me against it.
“This mouth,” he says, and runs his thumb over my still kiss-swollen bottom lip. “It’s been making me crazy. I’ve wanted to taste you for so damn long now.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Rules.”
“Right,” I say, barely able to fill my lungs as his entire focus falls to my mouth. Adoration, affection, worship dance in his eyes, and my heart crashes harder against my chest. I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, and the groan that follows trickles through my body and settles deep between my legs.
I place my hand on his hard chest and slide it down until I’m cupping his swelling erection. His eyes briefly close, and I reach for his zipper, but he stops me. I frown, and he steps into me, scoops me into his strong arms and carries me to his bed. He sets me down on the edge of the mattress and steps back, his gaze roaming over me, a slow, leisurely inspection. There’s a change in him, but it’s so slight I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t familiar with all his nuances. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve gotten to know this man...have fallen in love with him.
“We go home soon,” he says.
“I know,” I answer, and hold my breath, praying he wants more after we leave paradise but knowing it’s impossible. I fight the tears in my eyes, and while I should blurt out the truth and stop this before it goes any further, I can’t. I want—need—this one last night with him.
But instead of asking more from me, his eyes scan my face, and he sinks to his knees. He lightly traces my chin and dips his head until his lips are on mine, tasting softly, exploring thoroughly. And I shut down my thoughts, wanting to enjoy this moment for what it is.
“Baby, you are so beautiful,” he murmurs into my mouth, one hand pushing my hair from my shoulder to expose my neck. He runs a soft finger down my neck until he reaches my T-shirt. He tugs it from my shoulder and slides my bra strap with it. His lips leave mine and brush lightly over my skin, and goose bumps follow in the wake of his wet mouth.
I put my hands on his broad shoulders and touch him, my fingers moving over his skin in much the same way he’s touching me. His mood is mellow yet deeply intense. Normally our sex is frantic as we try out new, fun positions. I have no idea what he intends this time, but I like this slower, softer version of him.
He nudges my arms and I lift them, knowing full well what he wants. He strips my shirt away and unhooks my bra. His gaze drops, and a quiver goes through me as he takes my breasts into his hands, leans in and presses soft, openmouthed kisses to my nipples.
My heart misses a beat and then another, and I try to swallow down the things this man makes me feel with every touch, every kiss, but this time I can’t. I can’t smother the love blossoming inside me, filling me up and making me whole again.
“Will,” I say quietly, and his eyes lift.
“Yeah.”
I swallow again and cup his cheek. “I...I...”
“I know,” he says, everything in his gaze softening. But what does he know? How I feel about him? Will it scare him or... “Come here.” He stands and tugs me to my feet. I go up on shaky legs, and he slides his hands around my body, cups my ass and pulls me to him.
His lips find mine again, and one hand burrows into my tousled hair. I grow wet between my legs as his tongue delves deep, tasting all of me, savoring, exploring until I’m moaning and arching my back, wanting more...wanting everything.
I slip my hands under his T-shirt, and his muscles clench as I spread my fingers, unable to touch enough of him at once. His mouth is at my ear, and the hungry sounds curl around me, take me to a higher state of passion. I go higher and higher until I reach a place where I’m free-falling without a net. Will I fall or will he catch me?
“I fucking love the way you touch me,” he says, and releases the button on my shorts. He inches back, and my hands fall to my sides, a whimper catching in my throat at the loss. But then his mouth is on me again, my grumbles turning to a moan, as he gently swipes the soft blade of his tongue over my hard nipple.
“Yes,” I moan, and move against him.
His lips trail lower, and he drops to his knees as he slides my pants down my legs, his heated breath scorching my skin. My hands go to his hair, and I fist it to hold on as he buries his mouth between my legs and pleasures me with soft, gentle licks that vibrate through my entire body. If he weren’t holding me, I’d drop to the floor, a quivering mass of need.
