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And he was touching her. Jerking her shirt from her pants, groaning against her lips, nipping at them as her hands dug into his hair and held him closer to her.
She was kissing him. Her lips were moving beneath his, she was moaning for him. Rich, earthy moans that vibrated with purring little growls. The sounds of it went straight to his dick and had it fully engorged. He was harder, hotter than he could ever remember being in his life. And he was tearing her shirt from her. He heard the material rend and cursed himself. He cursed himself but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep himself from revealing that plain little bra, the one that held her breasts perfectly for him.
“Seth.” She whispered his name, a thin, hungry sound that he couldn’t believe he was hearing. That he couldn’t believe was falling from her lips.
And her hands. As he pushed her shirt from her shoulders and his lips moved down the graceful column of her neck, he felt the buttons pop on his, heard cloth tear.
Hell, he had never been so desperate for a woman. Never felt a hunger burn so deep inside his gut.
Then her hands were on his chest. Her fingers were pushing through the mat of hair that covered it, and she purred. A real, fucking honest-to-God purr left her lips, and he almost came in his trousers from the sound.
Seth jerked his head back, stared down at her, and God help him, he knew, from this moment on, if he wasn’t touching Dawn, loving her, tasting her, then he would be completely alone. Because no other woman’s touch would do.
Dawn stared at where her hands pressed against the soft, short curls on Seth’s chest. The light pelt was warm from his body heat, the short curls tickled her palms, the heat of his flesh warmed them.
She stared at her fingers, so small against the expanse of muscular flesh and male hair, and felt her knees weaken at the knowledge that she was finally touching him. Touching him, kissing him. And she could taste him.
She leaned forward and put her lips against his flesh, opened them, let her tongue lick at it. The muscles beneath the skin flexed and jumped and a hard groan tore from his chest.
“You like my touch?” she whispered in awe as she looked up at him, saw the dark thunderclouds in his eyes and the flush on his cheekbones.
“Like isn’t a good word.” His teeth were clenched as she let her fingers circle the flat, hard discs of his nipples.
No, like wasn’t a good word if it felt anywhere as close to as good as his hands felt on her.
“Seth?” She was panting, just trying to breathe as so many sensations tore through her, unknown sensations, pleasure unlike anything she’d thought she would know in his arms.
“Anything, Dawn.” He must have heard the question in her voice; maybe he heard the longing she couldn’t disguise.
“Touch me.” She tried to breathe.
She felt light-headed, off balance. His hands were at her hips, his fingers clenching, caressing, but she needed more. She ached in places that she didn’t know how to ease, didn’t know how to describe.
“Dawn.” His head lowered as though he couldn’t stop the action, and hers fell back with a cry as he bent over her, his lips moving to the swell of her breasts above her bra. “Sweet God, Dawn. You taste like life itself.”
Shuddering, racing arcs of pleasure ripped through her as his tongue licked over the swell of flesh. He wasn’t even touching her aching nipples and she was ready to scream from the pleasure.
“Seth, I need more.” She arched into his arms, feeling them surround her, feeling his hands flatten on her back, draw her closer to him, loosen the clip to her bra.
She was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. From pleasure. Her hands gripped his shoulders as his tongue swiped over a nipple. Her nails bit into his flesh as his mouth covered it and he sucked her into his mouth.
And still it wasn’t enough. Before she lost consciousness, she wanted to know it all. Because she knew she was going to faint. Rapid, white-hot streaks of sensation were tearing from her nipple to her womb. She could feel the juices easing from the swollen, sensitive flesh between her thighs, felt her clit throbbing, her heart racing.
And if she didn’t get some ease—she had suffered arousal in the past but nothing like this.
“Seth, please.” She arched in his arms as he moved from one breast to the next, as he sucked and licked, rasped with teeth and tongue and sent her senses spinning.
“It’s not enough,” she panted, trying to get closer, trying to crawl into him. “Seth, help me. It’s not enough.”
One hand slid from her back, over her rear. It jerked at her thigh then slid forward and cupped her between her thighs.
They both stilled. His breathing was harsh, heavy in the still air of the study, his forehead pressed against her breast as his hand moved, his fingers pressed into the humid flesh.
“I won’t stop,” he groaned, his voice agonized, tortured. “Dawn, if we keep this up—”
“Don’t stop,” she breathed out roughly. “Seth, please.”
She felt close, so close, to a pleasure she couldn’t define. One that had eluded her, but had tormented her for so many years.
