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For three long months, she had been waiting to feel this way again, convinced she never would, but now she was back in this wondrous place where his lips moved over hers with controlled mastery. His palm slid up her arm to the back of her neck, cupping her head while he deepened the kiss at an achingly slow pace.
It was both soothing and inciting. Frustrating. Urgency was rising in her, making her run her hands around to his back so she could pull herself tighter against him.
“I was an animal last time,” Saint said, drifting his kiss to her cheek and brow. “You should have told me how long it had been. I would have been more careful.”
“I liked it.” He’d made her feel irresistible, and she wanted that rush again, maybe to reassure herself it was still there. Or that she held some of the power over him that he had implied, but even though she arched to press her pelvis into the stiffness behind his fly, he only made a sound of gratification and dragged at her hair so he could nuzzle his mouth against her throat.
“I’ve thought about you a lot. About that night.” His free hand skimmed the side of her breast, then climbed beneath the fall of her T-shirt to trace patterns against her waist and lower back, showering her with tingling sensations. “About all the things I would do with you if I ever got the chance again.” His hot words stimulated the hollow beneath her ear and stirred the fine hairs at her hairline. “The list is long, Fliss. Very, very long.”
She was hearing him on a subliminal level, all her senses drawing tight with anticipation while he only teased her with the brush of his lips on her throat and the unhurried movement of his hand creeping higher and higher toward her breast. By the time his thumb traced the under-band of her bra, she was trembling.
But Fliss had the wherewithal to say, “Don’t wreck it. I made it.”
He lifted his head. “This?” His clever fingers grew more exploratory, making her wriggle when his tickling touch went into her armpit.
“Yes. And you ripped the knickers I made—”
“I wanted tokeepthem, they were so sexy. Let me see.” He took hold of the hem of her T-shirt, forcing her to raise her arms, then skimmed it off and away. His gaze glittered with approval as he took in the jewel-colored scraps of silk, silver lace and black satin straps. “You made this?”
“I had to. I’ve already gone up a cup size.”
“Hell yes, you have.”
“Don’t look too closely.” Fliss touched a tiny wrinkle in the lace edging. “It’s full of mistakes. Lingerie is very finicky and unforgiving.”
“I’m looking very closely and all I see is perfection,” he assured her in a throaty voice. “You should make nothing but lingerie. This is...” Saint slid his finger under the strap where it came over the top of her shoulder. It connected to an eyelet that supported a split strap that framed the upper swells of her breasts in bold triangles before connecting to either side of the balconette cups. He swallowed. “Magnificent.”
The feathery trace of his touch was making her breasts tingle and swell. They ached, but even though she drew a breath and shifted, he showed no mercy. His thumb grazed the point of her nipple where it was lifting the amethyst silk.
She didn’t realize she’d made a throaty noise until he paused. “Hurt?”
“No. It feels really good.” Everything about his hands on her felt really, really good.
A satisfied rumble sounded in his throat. He brushed the strap off her shoulder, then scooped his hand inside the cup to dislodge it. His head ducked and he licked at her nipple, teasing, blowing softly, before he opened his mouth to take the tip deeply into the wet heat of his mouth. He sucked until she was standing on her tiptoes, fist knotted in his hair.
When Saint straightened, his eyes were glazed with lust. He checked in with her very briefly before he freed her other breast and bent her over his arm. He ravished the other one just as thoroughly, sending runnels of heat into her loins and making her cling and arch higher into his mouth and gasp his name.
He didn’t let up. No, he pushed his hand into her jeans and knickers and discovered exactly how profound an effect he was having on her. She groaned with aching delight as the restriction of her clothes firmed his touch against her folds. His finger probed, and the plane of his palm sat implacably against the pulsing knot of nerves that had been waiting for this. For him.
“Saint.” She was so aroused she was begging, bowed in supplication, lifting her hips to deepen his penetration, trying to increase the friction.
He fluttered his tongue against her nipple, and she lost it. Climax rippled through her, deep and satisfying, tearing a cry from her throat. If he hadn’t held her so firmly, she would have fallen down as she fell apart. It was terrifying and exalting and left her so shaken she was still quivering when he removed his hand from her jeans and eased her onto the bed.
“I thought my memory had exaggerated how responsive you are,” he said in a rasp. “Are you sure this is okay? I didn’t expect you to come so hard and fast.” He opened his hand across her abdomen where her muscles were still twitching in the aftermath.
He didn’t lookthatworried. He looked kind of smug.
“It’s very okay,” she said shakily, opening her jeans and lifting her hips to push them down and off with the rest of her remaining clothes.
Saint straightened to yank at his own shirt and pants, his impatience flattering. His erection sprang forth. All of him was like burnished oak, carved and sanded into smooth planes and lovingly accentuated details. He swept his hand across his torso as he looked at her, then slid his hand down, taking hold of himself in a tight fist, expression tense with carnal hunger. He reached for the night table drawer.
“You don’t need a condom,” she reminded him. “Unless there are other issues? I had a full screen as part of my checkup.”
“I was tested...” He frowned in recollection. “It was right before I left for London for the gala. There hasn’t been anyone else since. I’ve never had sex without a condom, though.”
“Me, neither. We’re both virgins.” Fliss sat up to draw the blankets down so she could get under them but paused to ask with false concern, “Do you think we should discuss it first? With a responsible adult we trust?”
“Like who? The pilot?” He threw the covers away and loomed over her, nipping at her lips with his own as he pressed her to the mattress. “Damn, but I’ve been wanting this.”
