Page 133 of Jaked

Chapter 51

Through the shadows, I saw a slow smile spread across his face. He loomed closer, and his lips brushed my ear. "You see what you're wearing?" he said.

I glanced down at my new outfit. When I spoke, my voice was nearly too breathless to be heard. "Yeah."

"This is what I'm gonna do." He reached out and trailed a finger lightly down my neck, toward the center of my cleavage. "You see that nice, respectable shirt you're wearing?"

Mutely, I nodded.

His finger trailed lower, grazing over those pearly buttons of the formal blouse. "I'm going to rip that thing off your hot little body, button by button."

My breath hitched. "You are?"

His voice was low, hypnotic. "I am." He kissed my earlobe. "And then, I'm going to take that lacy bra of yours and rip it aside, so I can get a good, long look at you." His finger was still trailing lower. It was nearing my naval. He continued. "And when my eyes have had their fill, wanna know what I'm gonna do next?"

Wordlessly, I nodded again.

"You see that armchair by the window?"

Listening to his voice, hearing the things he was saying, I was growing hotter and wetter with every word. Somehow, I managed to whisper, "Yeah. I see it."

"I'm gonna carry your sweet ass over there, and I'm gonna bend you that armrest, and I'm gonna lift up that new skirt of yours and yank down your panties…"

Oh. My.God. He had barely touched me, and I felt in danger of climaxing any second.

His finger trailed lower, skimming over my naval and onto the fabric of the new black skirt. "And then, when I have you just the way I want you, I'm gonna grip those sweet hips of yours and make you mine until you forget your own name."

I could hardly breathe. Or maybe I was breathing too much. I tried to speak. The only sound that came out was a soft moan.

He pulled his lips from my ear. Like a powerful predator, he circled to the front of me. Catching my breath, I looked up. Our gazes locked and held. He was so beautiful. And so primitive. And so thrilling. I wanted to remember this forever. IknewI would remember it forever, no matter what happened next.

His gaze dipped to my blouse. I braced myself, wondering if he'd actually live up to that insane promise. But all he did was reach up with both hands to caress the sides of my face. Slowly, he lowered his lips to mine. I sagged against him, lost in the feel of his lips and the motions of his tongue.

Too soon, he pulled away, leaving me utterly lost. With his hands still caressing my face, he moved a fraction backward. Slowly, his hands slipped down my face, over the sides of my neck, and down to my shoulders.

Mesmerized, I drank in the sight of him. His lips were parted, and his eyes were hungry. In his coiled muscles, I saw passion battling with self-control. My heart racing, I felt his warm fingers slide under the neckline of the blouse. I caught my breath.

Suddenly, as if he couldn’t wait an instant longer, he gave the fabric a soft yank. I heard a button pop and fabric give way. His eyes grew hungrier, and my breath hitched. He gave another soft yank, and second button went flying.

My knees were weak, and my heart was racing. He yanked again, and third button succumbed to the force. When I whimpered with need, he gave a vicious yank at the thin fabric. I heard fabric tearing and buttons popping. I heard a low groan. Maybe mine. Maybe his. Maybe both. Cool air brushed over my stomach, and I stifled a shiver that felt achingly hot.

I watched breathlessly as his eyes devoured me like I was his last meal on Earth.

His voice was ragged when he said, "You're so sweet. So perfect." He reached up and yanked aside the lacy fabric of my bra. I felt cool air on my nipples, and heard his low exhalation of breath.

I glanced down, seeing what I had already felt. With the fabric pushed aside, somehow the concentration of lacy support was raising my breasts higher, as if begging for his attention. With a low murmur, he cupped them in his warm hands and worried the nipples between his fingertips.

I should've been embarrassed. I could only imagine how I looked – half naked in a torn blouse and a bra that covered next to nothing. But I wasn't embarrassed. I was hungry. For him.

I wanted to tear at his clothes and get a good, long eyeful of his glorious muscles and tantalizing tattoos. I wanted to run my hands over his skin. I wanted to touch him everywhere and make him want me like I wanted him.

I reached up with both hands and gripped the neckline of his dress shirt. Following his lead, I yanked the fabric aside, and half of the buttons went flying, giving me a nearly perfect view of his chiseled chest, along with a sneak peek at his amazing abs. I yanked again, and his torso was utterly exposed.

His chest, so perfectly sculpted, was just like I remembered. I reached out and trailed a hand over his pecs and downward until I skimmed his flat stomach.

I inched my hand lower, over the waistband of his pants, and lower still, until I felt the outline of his massive erection. Through the fabric of his pants, I gripped his length and ran a palm over its contours. I felt a thrill of triumph when he gave a low moan that sounded an awful lot like my name.

His hands were moving now too. One of them skimmed my stomach and reached up to lift my skirt. He skimmed the inside of my thighs and stopped when he reached the front of my ever-dampening panties.