Page 122 of Manhattan State of Mind

There’s a spike in my pulse but I try to laugh it off. “Well, now I feel the pressure to be on my A-game.”

His eyes soften. “Just be yourself. That’s all I want.”

That, right there, is the sexiest thing a man has ever said to me. I stare at our reflection, my back arched into his solid body, and swallow hard.

Oh. We’re ready for lift-off, Captain.

Need builds hot and insistent, screaming for release. I’m not sure I’ll make it to the main course at this rate.

My eyes flicker to his lips in the reflection, wondering if they taste as good as his dinner. Only one way to find out.

I turn in his arms, fisting my hands in his shirt, and yank him down for a taste.

His mouth claims mine, hot and demanding, in a clash of lips and tongues that sets my senses ablaze.

The telescope forgotten, he walks me backward toward the table, thankfully not the part set for dinner.

“What are you—” My query dies as his strong hands grip my hips, hoisting me onto the table in one smooth move and pushing me down.

I gasp, the show of sexy caveman behavior making my downstairs clench.

His hand on my belly holds me in place. The sexiest restraint I’ve ever known.

My thighs spread instinctively, heels hooking around his waist to draw him closer.

Still not close enough.

I stare up at him, pulse hammering as his eyes rake over me. He looks ready to devour me whole.

Please do.

In one swift motion, he rips off his shirt, exposing his sculpted, lickable chest. His sweatpants and underwear are discarded on the floor until it’s just him in his sexy naked glory, thick erection proudly pointing toward the sky.

The sight of him in all his manliness, hard in all the right places, lights me up like a life-sized erotic game of Operation.

“See what you do to me?” he rumbles, looking down at me with an intense gaze. “I can’t wait until after dinner.”

Then one hand is back on my stomach, bunching up the fabric of my dress, and the other fists his throbbing cock, roughly stroking up and down. My eyes can’t decide between his face and his busy hand.

“We don’t have to wait.” My voice comes out raspy and low.

“You want this?” he taunts, smirking down at me.

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“For your sassiness, sweetheart,” he growls as his hand slides up my thigh. “You’re going to get fucked really hard now.”

Oh, boy.

My breath grows shallow as he slides my panties down my legs with excruciating slowness.

His hands wrap firmly around my thighs, dragging me toward the edge of the table. I let my eyes drift shut as he lines his cock up with my entrance. With a deep thrust, he buries himself inside me, sending shudders through both our bodies.

“Look at me,” he says roughly.

I force my eyes open to meet his gaze as he slides inside of me fully again with one smooth motion. It feels… incredible.

He holds back for a second, giving my body time to adjust to him. He takes his time sliding out, until just the head of him is left inside me, and then slams back in again.