Page 32 of Wicked Takeover
An erotic romance writer couldn’t have staged the scene better. Maybe that’s what he’d done before working here. “God, yeah.” She gulped air. “More.”
With a sexy smile, he bent her at the waist over the convertible chair. “Lift your ass.”
…
Lauren not only did what Dante wanted, she flaunted her nudity.
He liked that and her trust that he wouldn’t judge her. Most women he knew had no trouble in that department. Convinced they looked great, they ditched their duds, crawled all over him, then played hard and dirty. They’d provided blessed relief and wicked fun but little else. He hadn’t been any more important to them than they’d been to him.
They weren’t Lauren.
It hurt to see her embarrassment when she’d glanced at her reflection. She couldn’t have given him a better gift than when she’d smiled because she finally saw herself as she really was, an incredibly beautiful woman. Why would a gorgeous babe like Lauren feel like she wasn’t good enough? Had an old boyfriend told her she wasn’t hot? Only a jerk would beat a woman’s self-confidence down like that. A creep who didn’t deserve someone like her. Her figure was one a man could get lost in—her soft, sensuous curves washing away the day-to-day crap, exciting and satisfying, then ultimately draining a guy’s strength in bed.
He couldn’t feast on her enough and needed to bury his cock in her so badly his clothes felt too tight, his rod and nuts wanting out.
Ignoring his lewd needs, Dante took his time. He wanted Lauren to feel how stunningly naked she was and to relish it as he did. Her plush ass was a man’s fervent desire. The furrow between her cheeks sexier than sin. Her anus intriguing. Her warm cleft the home he wanted and needed.
Her damp curls and engorged lips welcomed him.
His throat tightened.
Lauren lifted her face and watched him in the mirror. Her blush returned.
Dante hoped it was from excitement, not unease. He pretended not to notice her quiet scrutiny while he did the same with her, settling on her socks.
They were the same blue tint as her panties and had tiny white roses embroidered on them. Sweet and surprisingly provocative. His balls plumped.
He stepped to her side, observed her at his leisure, feeling like a lord of the manor, and rested his palm on her waist.
She stilled and eased into him.
Precisely what he wanted. He stroked her silky skin.
Her lids grew heavy. She made a soft, wanting noise.
The best music ever. “Comfortable?”
“Oh yeah.”
“You’re not falling asleep, are you?”
She giggled. “No. You?”
He’d never been more alert, acutely aware of every sound Lauren made, how she smelled, her skin’s smooth texture. “What do you think?”
She regarded the weighty package between his legs. She got another of the dreamy looks that he loved. Her happiness meant everything and made him feel more like a man than if he’d battled an invading horde or made a zillion bucks. That was unimportant shit. Reaching beneath the surface to touch her heart and soul was what mattered.
She met his eyes. “Aren’t you ever going to get naked?” A faint frown creased her forehead. “You do know you need to do that, right?”
Laughter gurgled in his throat. Dante fought it. “You really like being bad.”
Lauren gave him a sly smile. “Maybe.”
She was definitely ready for a game they’d both enjoy. He clamped his hand on her waist and pressed down to give her a small taste of his strength. “Don’t try to wiggle away. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
“You mean you’ll never undress?”
He laughed and sobered quickly. “Don’t talk, either, or make any sounds.”
