Page 7 of Temptation and Treachery
She liked having his warm hands wandering along her back and hips, touching her, molding her pliant body to his. He must have sensed her pleasure, because within the confines of her coat, one hand slid up to graze the underside of her right breast. His large palm curled around the swell of flesh, his thumb fanning back and forth along the swell. She gasped into his mouth, as much from the caress as from a foreign sense of being wanted. Desired. Then he stroked the edge of her nipple and another rasp came from the back of her throat.
“Those purrs are pure torture.”
Celeste bit her lip. She’d never been so daring, so turned on, or so wet. How was it that even though she’d never had an issue keeping her panties on, she was ready to climb Rio like a cat on a Christmas tree.
“Maybe I’m not the only one regretting the hotel’s damn rules.”
No regrets. Because otherwise she would be up in her room. Alone. She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. Not with him making his way down her skirt, inching under it. This was where she should stop him. Keep him from moving up her thigh, leaving a heated trail along her skin with the back of his fingers. Was this the same path he imagined following with his mouth? Oh God, she’d never be able to go past a park without thinking of him tasting her.
Goodness, her pulse pounded at her neck.
“So soft.” He followed the crease of her leg, tracing her high-cut panties back down to the base of the narrow V.
“Smooth,” he said in a gravelly voice.
At the time, she’d cursed the bikini wax. Now, she was grateful for the self-imposed torture.
“Oh fuck, baby. You’re so wet.”
Her breath echoed against his throat while her fingers curled into the material at his shoulders. They were making out in the street, and she couldn’t care less at the moment.
His knuckle pushed the damp silk against her inner folds before continuing on to follow her slit then returning, with added pressure.
“This is what I imagined on the plane.” He circled her clit, starting the maddening journey between her legs. “You sitting next to me. My fingers playing against you until I had to keep my mouth on yours so you’d be quiet. And every time the flight attendant came by, I pulled away.” He stopped, leaving her bereft. She whimpered, her hips rolling forward to seek more of his touch. “But as soon as she left…”
He reached for her again, this time slipping under the elastic to explore the wet folds. Heat shot through her, threatening to consume her. She’d never felt so alive.
But he pulled those searching fingers away, smoothing his palm down her hip to set her skirt back in place. Her whimpered protest earned a quick, hard kiss and a squeeze to her bottom before he stepped back from her. What the hell? For once, she’d been on the edge of something wonderful. And he cut her off.
