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He broke the kiss for an instant, growled and kissed me again. And again and again, lifting his lips just enough to break contact each time, so fast and urgent that it left me breathless. It was like he’d been waiting to kiss me for so long that now he wanted to experience it over and over.
I reached up and grabbed for support and my hands found the veined hardness of his forearms. My fingertips swept through the soft hair on the backs of them, following them upwards as they thickened and thickened, until I hit the huge, solid bulges of his biceps. I went weak, my groin tightening at the sheer, solid size of him.
My eyes had closed but I could feel him looming over me, could feel the heat from his body throbbing against me. Then, as he bent me back and back, our bodies touched. The contact was gloriously warm and it stretched all the way from the tops of my breasts to just above my groin. And where our blankets hung open, there was a sinful ribbon where bare skin pressed against bare skin. I drew in my breath as the hard ridges of his abs kissed my naked stomach.
His tongue toyed with me, tracing the edge of my upper lip. Trembling pleasure broke in silvery waves, washing down through my body, and I rose up on tiptoe, needing to be closer to him, needing more.
He broke the kiss for a second and I reeled. I was so drunk on him, it took me a couple of seconds to open my eyes. When I did, I saw those prairie-sky eyes blazing down at me, flicking over my hair, my eyes, my cheeks, drinking in every detail of me.
“You’re the most beautiful goddamn thing I ever saw in my life.” That sun-kissed, Texan growl, deliciously rough and so heavy with certainty that the words sank straight to my core. His hands squeezed my shoulders and he took a step forward, forcing me to take a step back. His leg went between mine, pushing aside the blanket, and the muscled warmth of his thigh pressed against mine. I caught my breath, remembering how close to naked we were, under the blankets.
“I can’t take my eyes off you,” he said. “Do you know that?” He took another step forward, pressing me another step back. I was shaky with excitement, my breathing ragged. My hands stroked his biceps and I could feel the need thundering through him: God, he was like a bull, unstoppable. Something had made him crazy. I stared up at him, panting, and he gazed back, his eyes clouded with lust. It sank in that this was me doing this to him, and a wild rush of shock and pride swept me up and lifted me.
He rubbed his thumb along my lower lip. “Every time I look at you, every time, I’m thinking about kissing you. Thinking about tangling my hands in your hair and tearing that suit right off you.” The excitement was a pounding, violent drumming, now, vibrating through my body. He took another step forward, pressing even harder against me, and this time I could feel the hot throb of his cock against my inner thigh. I stepped back…and my back pressed against the wall.
“I have to see you,” he growled. And his hands closed on the neck of my blanket.
A sudden wave of fear hit me and my hands closed on his.
He cocked his head to one side. “I’ve seen just about every part of you.”
But I didn’t move my hands. “I don’t have the sort of body men like.”
“Well I’m a man,” he told me. “And you’re exactly what I like.”
My chest filled and a warm wave soaked down through my body. I released the blanket and he pushed it back off my shoulders so that it fell to the floor. He looked down at my body and the raw lust in his eyes chased the last of my insecurities away.
He let his own blanket fall and my eyes roved over the firm curves of his pecs, the heavy globes of his shoulders and biceps. Then lower...I’d seen him topless, before, but I hadn’t seen all of him, hadn’t seen the brute power of his muscled thighs, dusted with golden hairs, or the hard globes of his ass and the outline of his cock, revealed through the clinging fabric of his wet boxers. God, he was big.
As he stood there gazing at me, he smoothed his hands over my bare shoulders in slow rhythm. Then he slid his hands inwards, to the sides of my neck, then outwards, and I drew in my breath as he hooked the straps of my bra off my shoulders.
His palms moved down my upper arms, taking the straps with it. The straps pulled tight and then began to tug my bra down with them. I was breathing hard, now: watching him watching me was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, the lust in his eyes so strong I could feel the heat of it on my skin. The cups of my bra flipped down and I felt my nipples harden under his gaze. He kept pushing on the bra straps, flattening my arms to my sides, until the straps fell free of my hands. Then he reached behind me and freed the bra’s clasp and it fell around my feet.
