Page 72 of She’s Worth the Risk

Her words from Wednesday night replay in my head, stirring that same primal need low in my gut. And with it, that same urge to rein it in rises, but I catch myself. This is what she’s talking about, isn’t it? That desperate attempt to cling to control. But what has that gotten me, really? Years without artistic expression, without the touch and understanding of a woman. Years without feeling anything at all.

And I don’t want to be that guy anymore.

I crush my mouth to hers, fingers threading into her hair as I kiss her, suddenly ravenous. She doesn’t hesitate, mouth opening to welcome me with her tongue, fingers scrabbling to free my belt, hands wrapping around my cock, stroking eagerly. Heat slams through me, and instinctively I tighten my muscles, bracing against it.

Zinnia senses this, stepping back to give me a moment. She slowly peels her dress off to reveal a matching black set of lacy underwear like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s always been nude-colored underwear at life drawing, then she was fully naked when she undressed last time she was here, but this is…

Shit.

My breath stutters as my gaze rakes over her full breasts, barely contained by the low cups of her bra. And when she turns to gaze at me seductively over her shoulder, the cut of a black lace thong between her round ass cheeks almost makes me lose it on the spot. She’s perfection when she’s naked, but there’s something about this underwear that somehow adds to her beauty. Its own kind of art.

“Fuck, Zinnia,” I groan, unable to stop my hands from straying to her. “You’re killing me.”

She issues a breathless laugh. “That’s not my intention, I swear.”

“I think it is.” I graze my teeth over her shoulder, resisting the urge to bite down. “You know exactly what you’re doing, honey.”

I nudge her to sit on the edge of the bed, then lower myself to my knees, trailing kisses down her chest, tugging her breasts free. They spill over her bra, presenting themselves to me like a gift, and I bury my face between them, tweaking her nipples with my fingers, working my tongue over the stiff peaks.

“Oh, God,” she whimpers, arching into my touch.

Her fingers tunnel into my hair, tugging on the strands, and I can’t stop myself from grinding my stiff cock against the side of the mattress between her legs. Zinnia notices, breath speeding up, eyes watching me hungrily. She tugs at my shirt, tossing it aside, and when her hands land hot on my skin, a groan tears from my mouth.

“I fucking love when you touch me,” I say, voice rougher than sandpaper.

“I love touching you,” she replies huskily. She traces the outline of my tattoo, eyes hazy, then her hands find my achingly stiff cock again. I’ve leaked precum all over myself, and she lifts her sticky fingers to her lips, licking them clean with heavy-lidded eyes.

Holy fuck.

Heat rushes through me, and I lower my hands between her thighs, wanting to taste her too. When I find her thong completely drenched, my gaze flies to hers in shock.

“You’re soaked,” I rasp, and she nods.

“Because of you.” Her hips rock toward me, seeking more. “I’m turned on because you’re turned on. It’s so hot, Nick. Fuck.” She takes my mouth hard, her tongue sliding over mine in a wet, messy kiss, the kind that makes my cock surge. “I need you now.” Before I can say a word, she pushes me away, then falls to her hands and knees on the rug in front of the mirror.

Shit, I was so lost in the moment with her, I’d forgotten about that part.

I glance reluctantly at the mirror, catching sight of myself. A red flush creeps across my chest and my jeans sit around my knees, dick hard and purple, straining for release.

I’m a fucking disgrace.

But when I look back at Zinnia, literally on her hands and knees for me, I shove the feeling away. She couldn’t be more willing—more vulnerable—and I want to be right there with her.

Kicking off my jeans and underwear, I kneel behind her, pushing her thong aside to line myself up with her slick entrance. An excited breath leaves her as I make contact and then slide into her without hesitation.

“Oh, God, honey,” I rasp, head falling forward. How did I ever turn her down? What the fuck was I thinking? I need every single moment I can get with this woman, and I won’t waste another one.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it?” she purrs, rocking her hips back on me.

“So good. Fuck.”

I grip her waist, watching myself slide in and out of her. I could watch this all fucking day.

But Zinnia has other ideas.

Her hand comes over mine, squeezing. “Look at yourself. Look in the mirror.”

I force my gaze to my reflection, even as the discomfort is palpable, a bad taste in the back of my throat.