Page 103 of Protecting Peyton

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Maybe he was scared, but I refused to be. “I told you, I’m an adult, and I know what I want and who I want it from. Green light.” Grasping his face with both hands, I pulled him down to me.

He resisted, slowing my attempt to force the kiss I frantically wanted. Without breaking our lip lock, he took both my wrists and clamped them above my head with one hand. “Slower, baby,” he mumbled into my mouth.

Forcing myself to relax, I traced my tongue along his.

Soon, he showed me slow, steady strokes of his tongue, keeping pace with the subtle stroke of his hand down my side to my hip and back up, tracing a line between my breasts and up under my chin. Breaking the kiss, his tongue darted out to lick the tip of my nose. “That’s better.”

I wanted more, I wanted faster, I wanted him, but was powerless to force that. “I want to touch you,” I complained as I tried to pull a hand loose.

“You said you knew what you were getting into,” he said softly as his nose rubbed against mine.

“I said I know what I want,” I corrected.

“This isn’t a race.”

“But people will be up soon.”

“I’m sure Constance never went to bed.”

“Serena will probably come knocking on the door.” I expected her to arrive with breakfast sweets, maybe even before first light.

His hand lowered to my breast and teased me with a gentle caress. “Worried about how loud you’ll be when I make you come?”

His question shot another arrow of desire between my legs. “No.” I had never been a screamer, but I worried about the sound of the headboard banging, or springs squeaking. I felt the loss of his warm hand as he removed it from my breast.

He banged on the wall above us, twice. “Now you can be as loud as you want when I make you come.” His eyes took in my expression and read me too well. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I don’t scream.” That was the truth, but only half of it.

“That’s in your past. What else?” he prodded, reading me like a book.

At least in the dark, my blush wasn’t obvious. “I’ve never orgasmed without my…”

“Your what?” he prompted.

“My toy.” I should have admitted to having more than one, including Mr. Big, a suction-cup addition to my shower I’d experimented with only once.

Zane’s eyes widened with desire. He probably thought I meant I’d used my toy in combination with a man.

Somewhere in the house, a TV went on—loud.

“Now Constance won’t be listening to us.”

Since I’d agreed to total honesty, I was trapped. “No. I don’t use them with a man. What I meant was, I’ve never orgasmed with a man…at all.”

He sucked in a breath and laughed lazily. “That’s in your past, Angel.” His thumb slowly circled my nipple. “You won’t try that shit with me.” It was a command, not a question.

I worried my bottom lip.

“There are times to be quiet,” he noted.

I nodded and squirmed to get a hand loose. It didn’t work.

“This is not one of those times.”

His low voice sent a shiver down my spine.