Page 50 of The Best Wild Idea (Off-Limits #3)

Juliet

Silas swings me around by the waist and I walk backward until my spine is up against the wall behind us, the length of his body pressing me into it.

His teeth drag across my bottom lip, tugging it gently, before devouring my lips all over again.

I can feel him growing hard between my legs, and I widen my stance to let him push against me.

I let out a groan when he grabs me tighter, leaving no space for anything to get between us.

Silas knows how to take what he wants — and what he wants right now is me.

“To the bed,” I manage to say.

“Not yet.”

He releases my waist and presses both of his palms into the wall above my head, staring down at me, intensely. His eyes darken to a shade I’ve never seen and he tips my chin up.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” he says, leaning in. “Make you forget your own name. Make you forget which continent you’re on.”

My stomach twists, hoping he’s serious. Knowing how much I want him to do exactly that.

I feel dizzy with my back against the wall, grateful I have the support to stay standing.

He tilts my chin higher and my eyes roll to the back of my head when his lips find that sensitive spot just beneath my ear. This time he doesn’t hold back. I have to fight my legs from turning into liquid as he works his way down my neck. My wrists held firmly above, totally at his mercy.

He presses his hips to mine and links both my wrists in one hand, then runs the other hand down my arm, cupping my body, as the heat from his palm sinks into my skin.

Then he steps back to yank my dress open, each button flying off the front before it slides off my shoulders and falls to the floor.

“Silas!” I exclaim, not mad but laughing.

“Promise I’ll have two more delivered first thing tomorrow,” he growls into my neck. “One to keep, and one to do the same thing with again.”

I laugh until he finds that spot under my jaw and my laughter fades into a moan.

Then he hoists me up against him and I wrap my legs around his waist while he buries his face into my chest, kissing the heaving flesh he’s just exposed above my bra, before bringing his face to mine.

His eyes lose their humor when he finds the clasp halfway up my back.

I feel the band tighten as he holds both sides between his fingers.

I grin at him, signing the silent permission slip with a look.

“I dare you,” I tell him.

My heart thumps in my chest while I wait for his response.

His face curls. “Atta girl,” he growls, releasing the fabric with a tug.

The bra falls to the floor and I take it as my cue to rip open his shirt, like he did to my dress. The buttons fly across the floor. I want the feel of his skin against mine.

Instead of looking angry, a wicked grin comes screaming across his face. I love it.

“Only fair,” I remind him, raising a brow, then add, “I’ll have two more delivered for you tomorrow. Both of them so I can do that again. Twice.”

This makes him laugh until his eyes wander lower on my chest, my breasts now on full display near eye level while I’m pressed against the wall.

He groans, then grabs the flesh between his lips, tightening his teeth around the hardened bud.

My mouth opens as my eyes roll back, pushing the fullness of my chest deeper into his mouth, and he groans again.

I grab a fistful of his hair when he switches to the other side, already feeling myself grow more and more ready for him.

When I can’t take it anymore, I gently yank his hair back, tilting his mouth up, and he draws his tongue against mine. Silas is, without a doubt, the best kisser I’ve ever had. Rough and playful, but somehow leaving me wanting more each time he stops to look at me.

“To the bed,” I moan again.

“Not yet,” he repeats, setting me down, dragging his hands to the rim of my panties, the only thing left on my body.

“Too . . . many . . . clothes,” he says, running his fingertips along the waistline.

“And you?” I ask, grabbing ahold of his torn shirt. I push it aside and grip the waistline of his pants. “You’re one to talk.”

My eyes stay on his as I turn my fingers downward, pressing my palm against that spot between his washboard abs and the V I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since seeing him half-naked on the plane.

He licks his bottom lip and bites down, an arrogant smirk playing across his features, daring me to go lower.

But I pause, just above his waist, my hand pressed to his skin, eyes burning into his.

“I want to see your face when I touch you. I want to see what a man like you does when he’s nearly brought to his knees.”

His face curls, tortured, like he’s ready for the air to evaporate from his lungs at my touch. He leans in and bites my bottom lip, releasing it as quickly as he does.

“You might like it when I’m on my knees,” he whispers. His breath mixes with mine.

He grasps my hips and slowly lowers his knees to the floor in front of me, kissing me just once between my legs. The fabric presses between his lips when he presses them to me, and I can feel the heat of his breath through the thin material.

My knees buckle and I steady myself against him, reveling in his breath while it travels back up my body as he rises again to his feet.

The tease of just one kiss planted right there has me panting.

I slide my hand under the fabric of his boxer briefs to feel the tightness of his skin.

His breath hitches when I reach lower, and I don’t dare blink. Not wanting to miss one second of his reaction. He licks his bottom lip again, glancing down at my hips, and I can tell he wants to kiss me while I feel him for the first time, but I don’t.

Instead, I cup my palm around him, the full length of what he’s working with, while I watch his eyes dilate from just my touch alone. His jaw clenches slightly.

I kiss him once, watch his eyes when I drag my hand up and down so lightly that I wonder if he can even feel me teasing him.

“Jules,” he growls, restraint simmering just below the surface, nearly closing his eyes. “I wanted to take my time with you but with you touching me like that . . .”

I grin menacingly, then shove his pants to the floor. His briefs follow.

Then as slowly as I can, I pull my own panties down, letting them fall in a small heap over my toes while I keep my eyes tied to his.

Silas’ breath grows ragged.

He takes a step back, biting his fist, opening the space between us where his eyes can dance freely over my body, my skin.

I suddenly feel the years of familiarity between us flare, afraid he’s not going to like what he sees. That the fantasy of me and the realness of me aren’t even on the same page in his mind.

I turn, shifting my hips to the side, clasping my hands over my chest, laughing out of sheer nerves, now that we’ve gotten to this point.

Even in the dimness of the room, I can feel my cheeks flush red.

To go from friends to enemies to nearly lovers — it’s almost like there’s nowhere left for me to hide.

He’s seen everything I have to give, been on the receiving end of it all. All but this .

“Don’t,” he commands. “Don’t hide anything from me.”

“You’ve been with some of the most beautiful women in the world,” I remind him.

“And not one of them compares to you,” he says, but it’s not the words, it’s the way he says them that makes me suddenly believe him. And the look in his eyes that makes me feel as if my whole world belongs to him now.

I turn my hips back to him and release my chest.

He takes my hand.

“Let me see you,” he says in a gravelly voice, one I’ve never heard come out of him before.

Then his gaze travels over my skin, drinking me in.

Like it’s the first time he’s seen a woman stand naked before him, every hill and valley a work of art in his eyes.

“You are everything I never knew I could have,” he says, not moving his eyes away from me. “Bed. Now.”

He suddenly snatches me up in a kiss, walking us both backward toward the bed. I reach out a finger to turn the light off completely, but he stops me, grabbing my hand, bringing my fingertips up to his mouth.

“On,” he says, kissing the tip of the finger I nearly used on the switch before slipping the whole thing into his mouth, nipping the end as it slips out again. I swallow, wondering what else he’s capable of doing to me with that mouth. “There’s no way I’m missing one second of you in the dark.”

“On,” I agree. I want to see him too. The look in his eyes right now is intoxicating. “But what exactly do you want to see?” I ask.

He lifts my hand overhead and spins me around slowly in front of him.

“If we stopped right here, I’d die a desperate man,” he says.

He slides his fingertips down the curve of my breasts and torso, until his fingers land at the lower curve of my hip.

I suck in a tight breath at the feel of him grazing me there.

“But seeing you . . .” He trails off, making a sound in the back of his throat.

I wish I could hear his thoughts, experience whatever it is that’s making him look at me the way he is.

“Seeing all of you like this? Jules, I could spend the rest of my life with the view I have right now and I’d still die a desperate man.

It’ll never be enough. I’d always want just one more second with you. ”

His words, his gaze, all of it is making me breathless.

But I want to be more breathless.

I take his hand and drag it lower until he’s cupping the softest part of me. He groans against my lips, tucking one finger up inside.

“You are perfection,” he murmurs before kissing me again and I moan into his mouth, desperate to show him how much he means to me, too.