Page 26 of Bare
As if he knew she couldn’t take one more second of his exquisite torture, he slipped his hand under her thong, replacing the material with rough-skinned fingertips. Liquid heat soaked her core. A long finger slid inside her, twisting and pushing gently against her wall.
His nearly buzzed hair pricked her palm as she pushed his head harder into her chest, wishing she possessed magical powers to make the fabric between his mouth and her breast disappear. Still, each suck and nip sent pulses of heat directly to her clit. It throbbed against his thumb as he continued to swirl his finger inside her.
She arched her hips again, shaking them. “Please.”
It seemed to be the only word her lust-hazed brain could produce.
Keeping his finger inside her, he pressed his thumb harder into her flesh, separating her folds, bringing his calloused thumb in direct contact with her epicenter of sensation. Each stroke of his thumb fueled the storm raging within her.
“Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes.” The words tumbled from her mouth in mindless encouragement.
She held his wrist, her grip growing tighter and tighter with each brush of his hand. Suddenly, the warmth on her breast vanished, and the spicy-sweet scent of beer filled her nose—he’d lifted his head. She opened her eyes, meeting a gaze that reminded her of a thunderstorm cracking with lightning.
“Come for me, Rose. I want to watch your face when you come.”
He quickened his pace as he spoke, sliding his finger expertly in and out of her.
She closed her eyes again, losing herself in the ever-increasing tension rising within her.
He squeezed her breast with his free hand while increasing the pressure on her hot, swollen clit.
It was too much. It was just enough. It was perfect.
She flew over the edge with one long, jagged scream.
* * *
Rosemary’s core pulsing around his finger had nearly sent him over the edge. His dick was wedged so tightly against her hip, each squirm made him harder and harder. He felt like a teenager, ready to erupt from fully clothed contact. At least her writhing had stopped, giving him a minute to gather himself.
Her sumptuous body was now limp against his, and her rapid breathing was beginning to slow. Rosemary, in her afterglow, was beautiful, but lying next to her while she orgasmed had been stunning. Watching her skin turn pinker and pinker as her excitement grew, feeling her buck and squirm, hearing her soft gasps and pleas, seeing her face transform from tightly closed eyes and clenched lips to the lax features of pure bliss—it didn’t get any better than that.
Her eyes fluttered open. She lifted a hand and laid it gently on the side of his face. “That was amazing. My bones have gone liquid.”
Her voice was still husky, and his dick responded with another jerk against her thigh. She wiggled a bit in response, and his balls tightened.
“I aim to please.” His throat was dry, and his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.
Her responding laugh was like bells. “Or maybe they melted. It’s a thousand degrees in here.”
He’d been so focused on her, he hadn’t noticed the heat. Now that she mentioned it, he could see sweat beading along her hairline and realized his undershirt was damp and clinging to his back.
“Maybe we’re just wearing too many clothes.”
She bit her lower lip and peered up at him, blue eyes sparkling under hooded lids. “I think that’s a pretty easy fix.”
He pushed up to a sitting position. His right leg tingled from lying too long in the same position. He rose, shaking his sleeping leg and extended his hands. “Let’s go back to my bedroom. It will be cooler there, and we’ll have more room.”
She tugged her jeans back up over her glorious skin and grasped his hand, her grip strong and firm. She let him pull her up. No questions. No hesitation. Just straight trust and determination. A sharp pang of guilt cut through his lust.
What the fuck was he doing?
Rosemary trusted him. What would she think of him if he took her to bed while she was the subject of his investigation? If their relationship continued, he’d have to confess that he’d orchestrated their meeting. Would she think he’d pursued her only to get to Moresco? Was that what he was doing?
She squeezed his hands. “Is everything all right?”
He had to tell her the truth before things went any further. But loyalty to Phillipe warred with the need to treat her fairly. It was hard to think with his dick raging. The room was too fucking hot. Rosemary was too fucking hot. He needed to think clearly, and to do that, he needed to put some space between them.
He released her hands, turned, and took a step away. Stabbing pain shot through his foot.
