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His whole body stilled. Even the rise and fall of his chest ceased, like he was afraid to breathe, afraid I might take that as a sign to stop. I gave his cock another firm pump as a reward.
When I looked up at him again, his pupils were so dilated they were just pools of darkness surrounded by a ring of flames, and that fire branded me where I stood.
It took me a moment to find my voice. Fortunately, when I did, it came out sounding far more sultry and confident than I felt. “Good.” I released my grip on him and stepped back. “Now drop the shirt and take off your pants.”
He did as he was told, slowly toeing off his boots and sliding the rough fabric of his black pants down his thighs until they were a puddle of cloth on the floor. It wasn’t exactly a strip tease, but with the way his eyes never left mine, it sure as hell felt like it was.
Don’t drool. Do not fucking drool.
Adonis was gorgeous in that heavily muscled, bulky kind of way, but Hook’s chiseled physique won the sexy competition, hands down. Every line of muscle from his shoulders to his calves was clearly delineated, giving him the look of a wicked sex god. The only visible imperfection—not that it took anything away from his beauty—was a scar on the left side of his chest, jagged and puckered, like a chunk of his flesh and the muscle beneath had been cut out with something too dull to do the job cleanly.
I reached up and ran a finger over it, memorizing the soft, uneven skin. I wanted to see more of him. Letting the pads of my fingers trail across his chest and over his shoulder, I moved slowly around, drinking in the sight of him like a woman dying of thirst and loving every minute of it.
He shifted uneasily on his feet, and I paused, giving him a moment. Was he shy about being nude? He hardly seemed like the kind of man who would be self-conscious, but you never could tell what wounds people were hiding under their skin.
When he settled, I started moving again until I saw the source of his discomfort. A thick, ragged scar in the shape of a cross marked his otherwise perfect back. I bit my tongue against an involuntary wince at the sight of it.
“Someone did this to you,” I said, not really meaning to say anything at all. I let my touch drift over the long-healed wound.
“Yes.” His voice was harsh, just this side of a whisper, but he didn’t move.
I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the bottom of the scar, then traced a line with my tongue over the length of it. His whole body shuddered.
“Should I stop?”
His response was instantaneous and just as coarse. “No.”
I did it again, pressing another firm kiss to the apex of that torn flesh before I moved on. When I came around the other side, some of the tension drained from his body. That scar bothered him deeply and I wanted to know why, but this wasn’t the time.
I might have been dangerously curious, but I wasn’t a total moron.
35
NEVER
He was staring at me with a raw heat that I’d never seen in another man, and as much as it frightened me, it called to me. Something torrid and wild inside me ached to answer. I raised up on my toes and pressed my lips to his, tasting him again.
Our tongues tangled in slow, lazy movements. Sensual and sweet. His hands moved to my waist, anchoring me in place. The warmth of his palms bled through my clothing, soaking into my skin, but he didn’t push for more.
I pulled back just a little. “Is it challenging keeping your hands where they are?”
A smirk lifted the side of his mouth, and he gave me a single slow nod.
“Good.” I was starting to love that word. Leaning into his chest, I brought my lips to his ear. “For this next part, I’ll show you where I want them.”
His breathing picked up a little, the pulse in his neck hammering in response. I pressed my lips to that rapid thrum, then nipped at it gently. A warning hiss slipped through his teeth and his fingers jerked on my hips, sending a shot of excitement straight to my core.
How on earth had I gone my entire life without experiencing this kind of power? I’d been in control of every sexual encounter I’d ever had, and the guys were always happy to hand over the reins and let me lead. But it had never felt like this. Not even close.
The power pulsing through me was heady, and lovely, and oh-so-dangerous.
I tugged Hook’s hands away from my hips, and sank slowly to the floor, letting my fingernails rake lightly down his abdomen as I did.
“Never, what are you doing?”
I slid my hands around to his hips and dug my nails in enough to bite. “If you’re not telling me to stop, then stay quiet.”
His mouth snapped shut on a snarl that liquified my insides.
