Page 62 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
My core tightens with every pass of him against me, heat swelling inside. On the next pass, the pressure increases, and his length brushes right against my clit.
A loud noise fights its way out of my throat.
Holy shit. That feltgood.
But it doesn’t happen again. In fact, his body halts, and for a second, I consider the reality of the situation.
He’s turned on, possibly completely out of it, and strong enough to do whatever he wants to me even if I resist.
What if he…
What if he takes me right here?
I swallow air as he rolls his hips again, more slowly this time, and my arousal starts to tangle with a thread of panic.
I’m a virgin.
I’ve never had sex.
And as wildly attracted as I am to Giorgio, I don’t think I could handle the giant thing that’s pressing against my pubic bone. Not like this.
“Giorgio, wait.”
My hand goes to his chest, but he tears it off and presses it above my head. He does the same with the other. My vision turns hazy. This is the hottest thing that’s ever been done to me. His hips buck against me, the movements more desperate now, and my weak attempt to wriggle out from under him is cut short when I feel his tongue drag a line against the neckline of my tank top.
My eyes flutter closed. God, that feels good. So good that when he moves his lips to kiss the outline of my nipple, I lose my train of thought.
His tongue sets off a slow burn beneath my flesh as he licks me through my shirt.Pull it down.The desire to feel that hot, wet heat directly against my pebbled flesh morphs into an irresistible need.
My eyes roll to the back of my head. “Giorgio…”
Maybe it won’t be so bad.
His teeth scrape and tug.
Maybe it won’t hurt.
He drops a hand to palm my breast.
Maybe it’s exactly what I need.
“Giorgio. Take my shirt off,please.”
The one-handed grip he has on my outstretched wrists eases and then disappears. He lifts his head, and for the first time since this started, blue meets hazel.
I swallow as I drink in the look on his face.
Eyes open but glazed over.
Hypnotic sleep.
He’s not here. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Shit. Hollow disappointment solidifies inside my belly, even as he lowers his face to mine, and claims my lips with his.
I gasp into his mouth, and he swallows it up. The kiss is soft, lush, deliberate. His beard scrapes against my chin, his tongue darts out to taste my lips, and my body melts against his in response. Forgetting myself, I drag my palms up the planes of his muscular back and tangle my fingers in his hair.
I should stop this. Ineedto stop this.
