Page 96 of The Rancher's Wedding Deception
“Paul—”
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
She shook her head, mute.
“Let me show you.”
He kissed her again, harder this time, his tongue sweeping past her lips. Her back met the mattress, and then he was covering her, his weight pressing her into those impossibly soft sheets.
His mouth trailed down her throat. His hands found the zipper at the back of her dress, drawing it down with agonizing slowness. Cool air kissed her bare skin as he peeled the fabric away, exposing the white lace beneath.
“Every inch of you...”
The words were reverent, almost pained.
“I can’t believe you’re mine.”
His mouth found the peak of her breast through the lace, and she arched off the bed with a cry.
“That’s it.” His voice was a dark purr against her sensitized flesh. “Let me hear you.”
He lavished attention on one breast, then the other, his tongue tracing patterns that made her writhe. When his teeth scraped gently against her nipple, she shattered—her whole body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
But he wasn’t done.
His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down her stomach. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, and she should have felt self-conscious—should have felt something other than desperate, aching need—
But Paul was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“I need to taste you.” He was asking permission. Even now. “Let me taste you.”
“Yes.” The word came out broken. “Please—”
His mouth descended, his tongue parting her slick folds, and Andie’s world exploded.
She’d read about this in her romance novels. But reading was nothing—nothing—compared to the reality of Paul’s mouth on her most intimate flesh, his tongue stroking and teasing in ways that made her sob his name.
Her fingers drove through his hair. Her thighs trembled around his head. And when he found that hidden bundle of nerves and sucked—
She shattered completely, her body arching as waves of pleasure crashed through her.
When she finally came back to herself, Paul had moved up her body, his forehead pressed to hers.
“I need to be inside you.” The words were rough, desperate. “Andromeda. I need—”
“Yes.” She was reaching for his belt, fumbling with the buckle. “Yes, now—”
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ll be beginning our descent into Aspen in approximately fifteen minutes. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
They both froze.
Paul’s head dropped to her shoulder, and the sound that escaped him was somewhere between a groan and a curse.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Andie bit her lip, trying not to laugh. And failing.
“It’s not funny,” Paul growled.
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