Page 22 of Naughty or Nice

And then all sane thought leaves me as she slips the dress from her shoulders and it pools at her feet. Her perfectly round cheeks are exposed to my hungry gaze and I can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t believe.

Her eyes lift to mine above her shoulder. ‘Are you just going to stare?’

‘I’m savouring.’

Engraving this moment in my memory, worshipping i

t—you, Evangeline.

I reach out to smooth each mound and she curves into my touch, her teeth biting into her lip.

‘Please, Lucas, I want you now. You can savour later.’

Later? How much later? In an hour? Two? A day? A week?

I don’t pose the question; the answer is too depressing.

And if I only get to be inside her once, I’m going to make it the best she’s ever known.

I bow my head into the curve of her neck, my lips gently brushing her skin as I say, ‘Now who’s impatient, hmm...?’

I grasp her hips and pull her back against my clothed erection, relishing the moan she gives in return, the feel of her cheeks cradling my arousal. And when I release her to trail my fingers up her sides she doesn’t move away. She stays curved against me, her palms planted on the cold white countertop as she pushes into me.

I lift my lips to the edge of her ear. ‘What would your parents say to you fucking in their kitchen?’

She whimpers—she likes my dirty talk. I know it and I love her for it.

Enough with the love!

I focus on my hands. I want to touch her everywhere, claim her everywhere, coax out every sound of ecstasy she’s capable of making. I stroke along her back and unclasp her bra. The nude lace obediently falls open, the straps landing loose down her arms before I encourage them off. Her breasts fall free. I can’t see them, but knowing they are there, waiting, has me aching, painful, desperate.

I trace the curve of her waist around to her belly, higher... I stroke beneath the curve of her breasts, feel their weight shift as she writhes.

‘God, Lucas, please.’

I grit my teeth against her heated plea, feel my control fraying as I rotate my palms and surround each breast. I shudder on my own breath even as I feel her do the same, feel her hardened beads pressing into my palms. I roll her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, making them harder, prouder, feeling the tautness in the ripples that surround them.

Just perfect.

Perfect and mine.

For now.

I pinch them tighter and she inhales sharply between her teeth.

‘God, yes.’

‘You like that?’

My voice is strained, my balls heavy. I’m so close, and I know she is too.

‘Yes...’

It’s practically a hiss as she leans back, her body arched. Her bra hits the floor as she flicks it away so she can raise her hands to my neck, and I do it again and again, making her writhe. Her naked body against my clothed one. It’s one hell of a contrast and it’s pushing me over.

I’m tempted to make her come like this. It’s clear she would. But I need to feel her—feel her wetness, the evidence of her need.

I trail one hand down her belly and she sucks her tummy in.