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He shudders, then raises ever so slightly so he can slide his hands beneath my shirt. His warm palms graze against my abdomen, traveling upward. When he reaches the bottom of my bra, his breathing goes shallow and his hips tip again, pressing his length against my center.
Heat pulses and I swear, I’m about to combust.
“Off—take it off,” I command, trying to reach down to my shirt’s hem and do it myself.
He swats my hands away. “I say when.”
I gasp, unable to believe that such a small sentence could turn me on more than I already am.
“You wanted a one-night stand, Lily,” London says, his voice gruff and intense. “I’m going to ensure this is the last one you’ll ever have.”
I’m full-on panting now, every part of me a live wire and ready—so ready for whatever he has in mind.
“When we’re done here, I want my name to be the only one on your mind. My body to be the only one you think about. Do you understand?” he continues, kneeling up enough to unbutton my dress pants.
I swear, I nearly come from those words alone.
Outwardly, though, I nod, trying to calm myself enough to reach for him.
Again, he swats my hands away.
Toying with me.
A mischievous grin crosses his features as he unzips me and drags my pants off like he’s part-sloth. So torturouslyslow.
“Oh, my god,” I breathe, my head falling back to the bed. Partly in total frustration and partly in complete, desperate desire.
I swear I can hear the smile in his words when he says, “Patience was never your strong suit.”
Then, with my shirt still annoyingly in place, he settles himself over the top of me again. Only, this time, with one less piece of fabric separating us, I can feel him even better as he works his hips, grinding against me. He peppers kisses along my collarbone, my neck, and then the edge of my jaw.
My fingertips press into his skin, silently demanding he move faster.
Suddenly, his hands are beneath my shirt again as he traces the edge of my bra with his fingertips, never going under it, never palming over it.
I wiggle my hips, trying to build the friction in the hopes it might unhinge the iron-clad grip he seems to have on his control.
It only takes a few thrusts for him to press back slightly, his eyelids slamming shut. “Fuck,” he mutters, breathing slowly through his nose. “You’re evil, woman.”
With his eyes still closed, he makes a valiant effort at breathing deep. I take the temporary distraction as a way to slip my shirt off. When he opens his eyes his lips press tight.
“What?” I ask, demurely.
“You’re—” He shakes his head but takes in my body sprawled out before him. His eyes glass over and he bends forward, licking his way up my torso.
I groan. “God, no. No more teasing …Please.I need you, London. Inside me.Now.”
London’s eyes narrow, but the same frantic energy lurks in their depths. “I’ll give you round one. But then … you’re mine to do with as I please.”
My breath hitches and I nod, willing to accept anything at this point.
Then, he winks and reaches over to the nightstand, which by the look of it, is supplied with enough condoms to sheath a hundred guys.
My eyes widen, but I reach for his hand and whisper, “I’m on the pill.”
He stills his motion as he turns to me still breathing heavily.
“And I’m clean,” I admit in a rush, frowning slightly, pushing away any thoughts about how long it’s been since I last has sex. “I mean,obviously.”
