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Once inside her room, Qasim turned with Vectra still in his arms and kissed her soundly. Then he used the hand under her knees to lock the door.
Vectra fisted a heap of his shirt when he suddenly withdrew from their kiss. Expectantly, she searched the smoldering obsidian of his gaze, swearing to herself that she would do him serious bodily harm if he told her they couldn’t do this.
“What?” Her tone was impatience at its height.
“Tonight. What’d Will say to you?”
Some of her anxiety eased when she noted the devilish glint in his stare. She knew exactly what he was referring to and smiled.
“He said it was a shame I hadn’t had a sleepover in so long.”
Something humorous merged with the predatory shadows in his stare, and Vectra’s heart surged with anticipation and sweltering arousal.
Qasim grinned. “He was right.”
Chapter 9
The only thing better than kissing Vectra Bauer had to be leaving her mouth free to release the most sensually tortured, ego-boosting gasps.
Her cotton jumper was pleasingly accessible, but he wanted it gone. Need coursed like a fever over the desire to have her naked under him. He didn’t want to unsettle her or rush the chance to study the parts of her he’d only been able to imagine bare.
Her breasts were beautiful—naturally firm and full caramel-toned mounds that held him rapt with fascination when they heaved with her breaths. He loved the way one molded to his palm, almost, but not quite, filling it.
His thumb crested the chocolate nub that protruded from the brown sugar–toned disc surrounding it. The move forced another ribbon of the ego-stroking sounds, and Qasim rested his face in the crook of her softly fragrant neck. He wanted to savor the hitched cries he caused.
Vectra bit her lip not to stifle sounds of pleasure, but to prevent herself from begging him to do more. Not that what he was doing wasn’t heavenly, erotic and sensational. If he continued, though, she wasn’t going to last, and she so very much wanted to orgasm with him inside her.
Qasim seemed just fine right where he was. Still fully clothed, he kept one of her bare thighs flat beneath his trouser-clad one.
The position left Vectra free of most of his crushing weight, but she wanted more. She wanted it all. She whimpered again as her hips began a slow rhythm of anticipation upon the bed.
Qasim moved, as well. The hand cupping her breast skimmed its underside then journeyed beyond her ribs, across her stomach and down to the waxed triangle of skin above her core. When he simultaneously sucked a nipple and pressed a long, thick finger into her sex, her whimpering mounted into open-mouthed sobs of ecstasy with every movement of his hand. In moments, she was in the throes of her first climax.
Qasim raised his head to watch her react to his touch. Possessiveness locked in, full and viselike, inside the most basic part of him. Qasim knew in that moment that she was never getting rid of him. The sounds she uttered and the captivating artistry of her were only for him.
She was for him.
Qasim mentally shook off the idea. He didn’t want to focus on matters he hadn’t quite worked out with the moment at hand. Her luminous eyes opened and settled on his face. He could feel her intimately fisting around his finger, milking all remnants of sensation even as she came down just a fraction from her peak.
He saw apology in her gaze amidst her satisfaction. There was regret that she’d so suddenly lost control.
“I want to see that again,” he told her before she could do anything foolish like apologize for coming without him.
“Sim,” she said. She’d uttered his nickname.
It was something she’d never done in all the time he’d known her. He had planned to take his time with her, had practically broken every traffic law en route to driving there that night thinking about the ways he’d intended to do that.
There would be time, he swore even as he willed restraint to assert itself. Pointless. He was too far gone with desire that had taken root long ago.
Vectra felt her heart thud at an almost deafening intensity when he started to remove his clothes. He’d worn a simple, yet finely crafted milk-chocolate crew shirt beneath a sports jacket of a darker chocolate. The colors were gorgeous against his perfect licorice skin.
She could hear herself swallow as he peeled off the jacket to reveal stunningly corded forearms. The muscular planks flexed and captured her attention as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew a nice supply of condoms.
Vectra’s lashes fluttered, anticipation taking flight once more as the sound of cascading packets hit a far-off section of the big bed. She didn’t look in the direction they settled. She was too riveted by Qasim doffing his shirt.
