Page 298 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Say it.”

I swallow. “I wore this for you.”

His hand slides up my back, unhooking my bra with the kind of competence that only makes me hotter. He removes it slowly, then presses his mouth to the center of my chest, right above my heart.

Not my breast.

Not yet.

His mouth moves lower, and I forget language.

He kisses one breast, then the other, his beard scraping lightly, tongue hot over sensitive skin. His hands are everywhere at once, broad palms gripping my waist, my ribs, my hips. Thumbs learning what makes me lean closer, fingers pressing into the backs of my thighs when my knees go loose.

My hands twist in his hair when he closes his mouth over my nipple, sucking deep enough that my spine arches.

The sound I make isn’t quiet.

“I want more of those.”

“Bossy.”

“I spent my entire time down there imagining this dress on the floor.”

I sit back, my hands crossing over my stomach.

“No hiding,” he says, grabbing them. “You don’t get to start this and pretend like you’re not soaked for me.”

A needy sound breaks out of me.

He stands me up before getting on his knees.

Warren hooks his fingers into the sides of my underwear and drags them down my legs, pausing to kiss my stomach, my hip, and the inside of my thigh. By the time the lace hits thefloor, I’m shaking, and he hasn’t even put his mouth where I need it.

He leans back on his hands for a second and looks at me.

“Come here,” he commands.

My stomach flips. “Where?”

His hands close around my hips. “On my mouth, beautiful.”

Oh god.

Death by Baker.

A classic.

I climb onto his lap carefully, and his hands grip my hips, pulling me forward as he drops onto his back on the bed.

I hover above him, and he squeezes me. “Sit.”

I lower myself.

His groan against me is immediate. Deep and rough, like the first taste of me took something from him.

I brace one hand on the wall, immediately annoyed with myself for not buying a bed frame sooner, while the other curls in his hair. His mouth opens under me, hot and sure, and his tongue moves with obscene patience until my laugh turns into a moan and my hips rock before I decide to move them.

He takes a breath. “That’s it, Hal. Use my mouth.”