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I chew my lower lip with indecision.
That’s the crazy thing. As much as he’s pushed me, he hasn’t done anything to hurt me.
When he extends his arm in my direction and waits patiently, I find myself stepping forward until I’m close enough for his fingers to nab mine. Once he captures them in a tight grip, he tows me forward until I have no other choice but to step between his thighs.
Inclining his head, he holds my stare. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”
Instead of questioning the directive, I do as he says, pressing myself against him. There’s a teeny tiny part of me that wishes I were just as bare chested so I could feel the hard lines of his torso. As soon as that sly thought enters my brain, I shove it away.
My heart picks up its tempo when his large hands settle at the back of my thighs. There’s a moment of stillness, as if he’s allowing me a second or two to get used to the feel of them before they’re sliding upward to cup my bare cheeks. His gaze stays fastened to mine as he palms the softness, testing the shape and weight.
A reluctant whimper rises in my throat.
He never stops squeezing.
Pulling and tugging at the flesh.
My eyelids feather shut so I can better focus on how good his hands feel.
“Do you like this?” His voice is several octaves lower than it was just a few minutes ago.
As loath as I am to reveal the truth, it bursts free before I can stop it. “Yes.”
A chuckle escapes from him. “You don’t have to sound so upset. If you like the way I make you feel, then enjoy it. There’s no shame in that.”
Easy for him to say.
A heavy silence settles over us as he continues to massage me. It’s as if he understands exactly how I want to be touched, which doesn’t make the least bit of sense, since not even I know that.
It’s disconcerting.
But how can I focus on that when there is so much pleasure reverberating through every cell of my being?
My eyelids spring open when one hand slides to my knee before lifting my leg until it can wrap around his lean hip.
“Relax,” he croons when my muscles turn rigid.
That’s impossible.
Not when I’m spread open against him.
My arms tighten around his neck as he maneuvers the other leg into the same position on the opposite side. If I thought I wasspread wide before, it’s nothing compared to now. My knees are bent as I sit astride him, the plaid skirt stretching against my splayed legs as the tips of my breasts brush against his naked chest. The warmth of his breath drifting across my parted lips is nothing short of intoxicating.
It’s as if he’s woven a spell around me. That’s the only thought circling through my brain as my chest rises and falls in quick succession. It feels as if we’re both hanging in suspension.
Me waiting for what he’ll do next.
Him waiting to see if I’ll allow it.
Once I’m settled, both palms return to my backside before dragging me so close that I’m able to feel the thickness of his erection pressing insistently against my core.
His eyelids have fallen to half-mast as he flexes his hips.
A moan escapes as I fight to remain still when everything inside me is in chaos, only wanting to writhe against his rock-hard length. He massages my ass until my muscles gradually lose their rigidity.
In the back of my brain, I realize he’s attempting to lull me into a false sense of security. And yet, I can’t stop my body from turning pliant under his tender ministrations.
That’s the one thing Jasper never was.
