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He’s heavy and his thigh slides between mine as he bites my bottom lip, sending a cascade of heat showering in me. He moves his mouth, biting, kissing, licking, sucking, along my jawline and up to my ear.
His hot breath and gentle tug on my ear lobe sends me flying, the throb in me, deep down in my center, a physical thing and I bury my hands in his hair. It’s thick and soft and delicious against my fingers and I pull him into me, needing more.
Down he moves, lower, along my throat until he bites down and sucks on my throbbing jugular and I almost come then and there. He’s hard against me. I can feel his erection. Big, thick, impressive, and I know I’m wet. I’m aching. I need. I need everything.
I haven’t ever felt such a flood of emotions, of urges, of response to someone like I do him.
Not even as a teen with my first fumbling boyfriend.
Nothing compares to the dexterous melody he plays on my skin. I arch against him as his hands slide down my belly, and down over the front of my yoga pants. Shit, I didn’t even think about what I’m wearing, but it doesn’t matter because oh, God, it’s like he’s touching my bare flesh, his heat penetrating through the thin layers of the material and my panties.
Then his mouth is back on mine and I kiss him hungrily, urging him closer even as I keep my hands above the waist.
If I touch him, I’m completely gone. I’ll let him do anything.
As it is, he’s totally wrecking me, and I’m shaking as those clever fingers slide up, then beneath the elastic of my pants, and then down, into my panties and along the slickness of my pussy.
I hiss a breath as his fingers move back and forth and I arch up into him, wanting, needing…oh, yes… He circles his thumb on my clit and pushes one finger into me and my entire being rushes down to that place between my thighs and—
“Stop.”
Magnus lifts his head, breathing hard against me, his finger still in me, and my body gives a little involuntary shudder, like the smallest orgasm. “Stop?”
“No…yes. Magnus. Yes, we have to stop.”
Slowly he removes his hand and he buries his face in my throat a moment. Then he kisses my lips and sits up, smoothing my top back into place. “I… Sorry, I got carried away.”
I don’t even have to guess that he never has to say such things to females. Most would already be naked and on him. Most of those already wanting him as theirs. And me…
Shakily, I sit up, breathing out. “I…no, it’s me. Magnus. I obviously like you, but I’m not a casual girl. I don’t…I mean, I do. But not for a while.” I bury my face in my hands and it’s on fire.
“I get it. I should go. And Zoey?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at me.”
I do, and I’m not sure I understand the expression on his face. It’s almost like wonder mixed with need, regret, and faint surprise.
“Looking,” I say.”
His mouth lifts at a corner. “I really like you, too. This…none of this with you and me has any intentions other than what it is. I want you to know that.”
I nod, not sure I understand the fullness of what he’s saying because there are layers there, so many and I don’t know where to begin or even if I should. “I do, but…we need to take this slow, or not at all.”
Magnus looks at me for a long time. Then he gets to his feet. “Goodnight, Zoey.”
And he leaves, and all I can do is sit there, staring after him.
Chapter Thirteen
Magnus
Three hours after leaving Brooklyn, I sit in my penthouse, looking out over the river and the nearby Woolworths building.
That…what happened tonight in her living room, the small slice of unexpected heaven, wasn’t in the script. At all.
I put my bare feet up on my desk. The floor to ceiling window in my library/study and its view usually bring me focus and peace.
