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Her head jerked up, her fingers still pressing against his lips. He licked the tip of one that was peeking into his mouth. And then nipped it gently with his teeth. “What was that for?” she gasped.
He shrugged. “You have thirty seconds to act, Dream Girl.”
“If not?”
“If not, I simply get up and walk away.”
“You’re a cruel, cruel man, Vikram Raawal. And no, I won’t let you walk away. Not yet.”
Her weight shifted forward. A graze of those gorgeous full breasts against his chest. The tips of her fingers dug into his abdomen for purchase when she slipped slightly. She frowned some more. With a curse, she lifted the hem of her dress. Flashed her toned thighs at him and blushed furiously. And then she was straddling his legs, the soft curves of her body leaning forward at an angle and pressing against his in a completely delicious torture. He went from half-mast to fully hard in an instant.
“You know,” she said, between humming a tune against his cheek, tracing every inch of his face with that mouth, “Papa used to say, if you do something, you should do it right.” She opened her mouth and continued her foray, up one cheek, down the other, his neck, and then back up, leaving little pockets of warmth on his skin. Leaving him panting for more.
Vikram wondered if she could hear the hard thud of his heart. And then she was kissing him properly. Hot and hard and honest. Like thunder on a stormy evening. Like the earthy scent of the world after rain. All magic and mayhem in the air.
He’d expected her to be sweet, a little bumbling maybe. He’d thought he’d have to show her how to kiss him properly. Arrogant stud indeed!
She licked and nipped at his lips until he opened his mouth. Her gasp seemed to burrow into his very cells. And then there she was, dueling her tongue with his, running away, and then catching him back again. Teasing him by licking at the tip of his tongue. Taunting him by retreating.
She sucked at his tongue and a jolt of current burst through his nerve endings. Soft and warm, her body moved in a tantalizing rhythm that goaded his.
Vikram released his hands from behind him and went for her with a mindless need he didn’t understand. He ran his hands, fingers wide, all over the dips and valleys of her body, greedy to touch all of her. Desperate to not miss an inch. Her arms were around his neck, her weight settled onto his legs.
Damn, the woman really knew how to kiss. There was no tentativeness, no holding back. She let herself fly free with a voraciousness that fueled his own.
“How’s that?” she asked him innocently, while she paused, her teeth nipping at his neck, sending a bolt of pleasure down his spine.
“You kiss like a woman who knows what she wants,” he managed somehow, while her tongue licked at the tiny bruise she’d just given him.
“I like kissing. I used to do it for hours and it drove—”
He sank his fingers into her hair and tugged gently, and she got the hint. “You’re right. No ghosts of the past allowed here.”
“Talk to me,” he whispered, drowning in the luscious scent of her. Usually, he wasn’t into chatting during sex. But this encounter with this woman was the farthest thing from his usual anything. He didn’t even know what it was. “Tell me what you love about kissing so much.”
“I love the anticipation of what comes next. I like how you can do it slow and soft or fast and hard and how your entire body starts thrumming like this...” she punctuated each word with a long kiss with slow flicks of her tongue and Vikram felt as if she’d been sent to steal his sanity. He wanted to tell her they could do a lot of other things like that too fast or slow, soft or hard. That he would be more than happy to help her discover all of them. That he wanted her name and her address and that he wanted her in his bed tomorrow night too.
Instead, he kept quiet and let her drive him mad.
She dragged her mouth to his jaw, then to his neck again.
His fingers tightened on her hips when she caught the skin at his shoulder between her teeth and sucked. A groan ripped through him, his erection pressing painfully against his trousers.
And then she was back to claim his mouth again. This time, it was a soft melding of mouths, an exploration after the initial frenzy. She cupped his cheek and tugged until he looked up.
Her eyes looked like molten pools of desire, her breasts rose and fell in concert with his own breaths. Her mouth was swollen from kissing him, and Vikram wanted more.
“This is good, isn’t it? Between us?” she asked.
Vikram dipped his finger into her mouth. His body hummed for the same caress somewhere else when she licked his finger and wrapped her tongue around it. “It’s better than good, Dream Girl. It’s...fantastic. The number of dirty things I could do to you while you chat away in my ear... I can’t wait to discover all of them.”
Naina ducked her face into his neck and took a deep breath.
He smelled like leather and whiskey and something else, far too decadent to be anything other than pure Vikram. His heart thundered against hers, his body a lean fortress of warmth and hardness combined. He wasn’t rippling with overdeveloped muscles as every other Bollywood hero seemed to be these days, but rather there was a lean, wiry strength to him that surrounded her. She ran her hands over those taut muscles now, loving the solid feel of him.
His mouth, God, she couldn’t believe how good it felt against hers. Couldn’t believe how he’d let her take the lead. Play with him. Tease and taunt him. And not once had he pushed for more. Not once had he prodded her along as if the kiss was nothing but a precursor to something else. As if it was a necessary punishment he was sitting through just to get to the end result.
No, she wasn’t going to compare him to anyone else in her life.
