Introduction To Romance (10 Books). Кэрол Мортимер
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she had to do was tilt her head back to meet his mouth. So tilt she did, one hand wrapping around the back of his neck and holding tight.
As his mouth took hers, she was grateful she was holding on. Oh, my. Her mind spun in a slow, delicious circle.
It was like he was starving and she a feast.
His tongue swept in, plunging deep. Demanding a response that was hard to offer while her body was melting into a puddle of lust.
But Genna did her best. Her tongue danced with his, their lips sliding in hot need against each other. The moves rolled, one into another, and she could barely think as the passion pounded through her veins.
His hands swept along her arms so light and soft they were barely there, leaving tingles of needy heat. He reached her wrists and bracketed each loosely between his fingers.
Then, so fast she didn’t even realize what was happening, he had her up against the wall.
Genna almost came right then and there. Her core throbbed, wet and hot. Her thighs trembled and her mind went completely blank. All she could do was feel. And she felt incredible.
Trapped between the cool plaster and his hard, hot body, she wrapped one leg around his thigh to pull him closer. He gripped her hands, both of them, and lifted them above her head, anchoring them there with one of his while he slid the other into her hair to lift her face closer.
His kiss was voracious.
His teeth scraped her lower lip, tugging it into his mouth, then sucking. Genna whimpered. His tongue swept over the tender flesh as if soothing it, then plunged into her mouth again.
His fingers skimmed along the back of her neck, tugging at her hair to hold her mouth in place, totally at his mercy. A part of her reveled in the power he had over her. That he demanded.
Another part, though, wanted to make demands of her own. She wanted to touch him. To run her hands over those muscles and feel how hard they could get. To measure the tantalizing width of his shoulders, the rigid length of his thighs. And all the other hard, wide and long things he might be willing to share.
She shifted to release her hands from his grip. But he wouldn’t let go.
A thrill surged through her system, from the tips of her fingers to the aching bud between her thighs. She tugged harder, but his grip didn’t change. He was in control.
Or so he thought.
Unable to use her hands, Genna slid her foot down the back of his thigh to his calf, using the move to press her core tighter against his hip. Then she slid her foot back up, gripping him tight.
He growled, low and sexy in his throat.
She arched her back to press her breasts against his chest. The move made her nipples tighten to rigid buds, aching for attention.
As if he’d heard their plea, he skimmed his hand down the side of her throat and slid it between their bodies to cup her breast. She swelled, aching and needy, against the lace of her bra trying to get closer to the hard warmth of his palm.
Her breath came faster now. Her pulse raced and her heart pounded so hard, she was sure he could feel it.
“More,” she breathed against his lips.
“How much more?” His fingers dipped between the edge of her bra and her skin, rubbing his knuckles back and forth along her nipple. She squirmed, pressing herself tighter against his thigh, desperate to ease the mounting pressure there.
“Everything you’ve got,” she gasped.
He leaned back. She gave a shuddering sigh, her arms moving to reach for him. But although he lowered his hand so her arms were bent above her head, he didn’t let go.
Instead, he used his free hand to pull the lace cup of her bra down so it lifted her breast. For a long, exhilarating moment he stared. His eyes were hot, intense. His breath short and the look on his face as needy as the desire contracting low in Genna’s belly.
He brushed one finger, just the tip, over her nipple.
Genna whimpered.
He leaned forward, this time touching his tongue to her pebbled peak. He pulled back just a little and blew.
Genna’s thighs quivered, her clitoris trembling. She pressed harder against his thigh, undulating, desperate to relieve the pressure.
His free hand skimmed over her stomach, fingers leaving a hot trail all the way to the slender elastic band of her thong. He traced the lace from front to back, then reached out to cup his large hand over her butt, squeezing her cheek and pulling her tight against him. Angling her perfectly.
Oh, God.
Her body started shaking.
He bent his head, taking her nipple into his mouth. Sucking hard. Swirling his tongue around, nipping, then swirling again. His hand slid beneath her thigh, his fingers touching the wet bud there. He gently pinched her clitoris, making her cry out.
So close.
Her body was so tight.
The orgasm right there, just out of reach.
Now.
She needed it now.
He didn’t bother pushing her panties aside. Instead, with a quick snap of his fingers, he ripped the lace so the fabric fell to the floor between their feet.
Sucking hard on her nipple, it wasn’t until he pinched the other one that she realized he’d let go of her arms.
Unable to remember what she’d wanted to do with her hands, unable to do anything else, she gripped his shoulders so tight her nails dug into his flesh.
He slid two fingers along the length of her swollen clit. Up, then down, then up again.
The climax coiled tighter.
Then he thrust one finger inside her, swirling while his thumb worked her bud.
The climax snapped.
Genna’s head flew back against the wall, her eyes closed tight as stars exploded in time with the orgasm pounding through her.
He didn’t stop sucking or thrusting.
She didn’t stop coming.
Not until everything went black, the stars behind her eyes fading. The orgasm was still coming in tiny shudders now, her slick flesh still vibrating around his finger.
Her breath tore from a throat so dry, she had to try three times just to swallow.
He shifted, leaving a chill where his body had been.
“Where are you going?” she cried, not done with him yet.
“I want to taste you.”
Ohhhh. The walls of her insides quivered again, a tiny orgasm exploding at his words.
But as much as she wanted to score as many climaxes as she could, she wanted something else more.
She wanted to touch him.
To see him.
For more than ten years, she’d dreamed of seeing him naked. Fantasized about what his body looked like. She wanted—no, needed—to see it. Now.
She grabbed his shirt, still loose around his shoulders.
“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head.
His eyes met hers. The golden depths were molten with desire, narrowed in question.
“Strip first,” she told him. “It’s only fair.”
His lips quirked to one side and he gave her body a considering look. Genna followed his gaze, realizing he’d pushed her bra beneath both of her breasts, the black lace vivid against her pale white flesh and berry-red nipples. Her panties were shredded, leaving the only other thing on her body a belly-button ring and a pair