Page 53 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Finally, he stopped moving, his hands still in her hair, her forehead resting against his stomach. He exhaled, closed his eyes. “That was so fucking good.”

She pulled back and peered up at him. “I’m glad.”

He held out his hand. Her small hand slipped into his, and he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

…

He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips parting, his tongue pushing inside. He kissed her long and deeply, wet kisses that saturated her senses with the taste and feel of him.

Something was different from the previous times they’d kissed. Maybe the hint of desperation was missing. Always before, there had been that feeling that it shouldn’t be happening, that it wasn’t real, that something would break them apart.

This time, she relaxed into the caress, let her mind empty of everything but sensation. She was vaguely aware of him picking her up, then lowering her, coming down over her, pressing her down into the mattress. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his shirt, and the heat of his skin burned against her.

He finally broke the kiss and raised his head. His fingers pushed the hair from her face as he gazed down into her eyes. “I told myself this wasn’t real,” he murmured. “But it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt. I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

She lifted her hand and rested her palm against the rough skin of his cheek. “I want you, too.”

His beautiful lips curved into a smile, and he twisted his head, kissing her palm. “We’d be fools to deny ourselves. And you’re not a fool, Summer.”

No, she wasn’t.

He kissed her lips, then trailed more kisses down her throat, while one hand pushed the straps of her dress down her arms, baring her breasts. Her nerves tingled, her body melting as he stroked his warm, wet tongue over her skin.

Slipping her fingers into his silky hair, she released the last of her worries and gave herself up to pure feeling.