Page 29 of Wicked Takeover
Goose bumps rose on her arms. The cold breath of the air conditioner chilled her damp crotch.
He gestured. “Go on. Now. No more delays.”
His demand was her wish come true. She leaned against the convertible chair he’d used to ink that partially naked woman. The furniture was still in a full reclining position, long and wide enough to use as a bed. Him on top of her, inside her.
Breathless with need, Lauren stepped away from her jeans and kicked them aside. She touched the lace waistband of her panties. Thankfully, she’d worn a nice pair today. A bikini-cut in pale blue, pretty and feminine.
Dante’s color rose. He shifted.
Lauren caught a meager breath. Anything larger was impossible. She eased her panties down, coaxed them to her ankles, then lost her nerve and remained crouched over.
A restless noise poured from Dante.
Forcing herself to be bold, she straightened and presented herself to him.
He stared at her dark blond curls, damp with her readiness for him. Eager for every fucking thing he wanted to do.
Lauren stepped out of her panties.
Like a man possessed, he grabbed them, held the delicate fabric to his nose, and inhaled deeply, taking in her scent.
He moaned passionately.
Her heart turned over at his reaction and how intimate he’d made the moment. Liking her fragrance. Desiring her.
Heartened, Lauren pulled off her tee and tossed it. The top landed on a chair. She shed her bra and dropped it at his feet. Cool air fell from the ceiling vent. Her already tightened nipples constricted further. Nude except for her scant makeup and socks, she faced Dante, wanting his full approval but warning herself not to hope for it.
His broad grin lit up his face. “Damn, you’re awesome. More beautiful than I’d imagined.”
She couldn’t believe he’d actually fantasized about her body. “You like big women?”
Dante’s smile turned into a puzzled frown. “What are you talking about? You’re not big. You’re just right.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Quiet. No more talk like that.”
Whatever he wanted. She was a realist, not a masochist.
He pointed. “What are you doing?”
She stopped easing off her right sock. “Stripping.”
“Not that. I like the socks. They’re cute. Face the mirror.”
Lauren looked over but avoided her reflection. She wasn’t that brave yet, no matter his numerous compliments. The mirror covered the wall. When the chair was in an upright position, it swiveled to face the glass, allowing the ladies to see the magic Dante created as he inked their breasts, tummies, or legs. If they’d requested a tat on their asses or back, they were out of luck as far as a good view went. However, when it came to him touching them… “While I face the mirror, where do you intend to be? Undressing, I hope?”
“Nope.” Lightly, he gripped Lauren’s naked shoulders and turned her around. The mirror caught her full-frontal nudity. It registered briefly before she glanced away.
His hands glided down her chest and covered her boobs.
His touch electrified her in a way she hadn’t believed possible. Heat, expectation, and joy glided through her, making her outrageously weak and desperate to lose herself in his strength and warmth.
He brushed his lips over her ear. “This is where I’ll be.”
She relaxed against him, her face lifted, eyes closed.
He stopped thumbing her nipples. “Look at yourself. Watch what I’m doing to you.”
