Desire Collection: December Books 1 – 4. Elizabeth Bevarly
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they disappeared and her flesh turned creamy white. Creamy white tipped with deliciously tantalizing pink nipples that were currently tight buds begging for his touch, his mouth. Action immediately followed thought. One hand went to her tiny waist, the other supported her back, as he lowered his mouth to her and teased one nipple and then the other with the tip of his tongue. He felt her shudder from head to foot and saw the blush of desire that bloomed across her skin.
Knowing he did this to her gave him a sense of joy he’d never experienced before with another woman. She was so responsive, so honest in her reactions. It was as refreshing as it was enticing and it made him want to make this evening even more special for her, more memorable.
Maybe there was a stroke of selfishness in his purpose. If he got this right, then maybe she wouldn’t hightail it out of there when the road was open. Maybe she’d want to linger, to explore just how great they could be together in every way possible.
She deserved the best of everything and he would see to it that she got it. It was as simple as that.
It was one thing to touch her, but he wanted to feel her, as well. He moved away slightly so he could tug his sweater off. The instant he was free of it he pulled her to him, skin to skin. The delicious shock of it made him feel giddy in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a crazy teenager with too many advantages and a whole lot of testosterone. He savored the sensation and stroked the top of Faye’s slender shoulders.
Her arms closed around him and she pressed her breasts against his diaphragm.
“Your skin, it’s so hot. It’s like you’re on fire,” she said so softly he had to bend his head to hear her.
“I’m on fire, all right. For you.”
* * *
Faye ran her fingers up the bumps in Piers’s spine then let her nails trace down his arms. She’d seen him topless before. When she’d worked with him while he’d been closing a business deal in France, on the Côte d’Azur, it wasn’t unusual for him to declare his poolside patio his office for the day. She’d marveled at the chiseled lines of his body but she’d never imagined they would feel like this to the touch. That beneath the golden tan of his heated skin his muscles would feel both hard and supple at the same time.
It was thrilling to caress him. Forbidden and yet not at the same time. Faye pushed away the confusion that clouded the back of her mind. The voice of reason that told her this was a very stupid idea. That she was merely a temporary amusement for him. But there was something about the way he looked at her, and the way his hands touched her with such reverence, that made her feel as though even if she only got to have him this one time, this interlude could still be an experience that would chase away the darkness and the loneliness that dwelled inside her.
Was it wrong to want, to need, this physical contact with another person? To want to feel cherished? Under normal circumstances the logical side of her brain—the one that had endured years of guilt, grief and recovery—would say that, of course, it was wrong. She didn’t deserve that kind of happiness.
But these were not normal circumstances and tonight that inner voice had been silenced. Wooed by champagne, dinner by firelight and dancing in the arms of a man whose breathtaking physical beauty was only transcended by the care he’d showed her tonight. Tonight? No, at all times. He might tease her and try to wheedle her secrets out of her, but he’d never been unkind or unreasonable. In the office, while he was very firmly the boss, he’d always treated her as a valued equal. Considering her ideas and suggestions and giving credit where credit was due when he followed through on something that had been her brainchild.
Maybe she hadn’t simply been wooed by tonight. Maybe she’d been wooed by Piers for the whole three years she’d known him and been working by his side, becoming more a part of his life than his parents and extended family. Certainly more a part of his life than the women he’d paraded in and out of his bed. For a brief moment she wondered, If this went any further, would I be categorized as one of those women? Okay, so maybe the inner voice wasn’t completely silenced—she smiled gently to herself—but it was about to be.
Faye traced her fingertips up to the broad sweep of Piers’s shoulders and back down over his biceps and forearms before shifting to his ridged abdomen. She heard his sharp intake of breath as she let her fingers slide lower, to the waistband of his trousers. One of his hands closed over hers as she started to tug at his belt.
“Let’s take this slow.” He practically ground out the words.
“Okay,” she said in a small voice.
But she wanted him so much. She was almost afraid to acknowledge to herself just how deeply she was affected by him. How the heat of his body penetrated through her to warm her where she’d believed she’d never feel warm again. How that heat infiltrated to the depths of her very soul. How the strength of his arms made her feel protected and how his very presence made her feel so much less alone in the world.
His hips began to sway and she followed his lead as they started again to dance. It felt so incredibly wicked to be dancing topless like this, but as his chest brushed against her breasts, as their bellies touched, as she felt his arousal press against her, it became less wicked and more and more right by the second.
When Piers tilted her face up to his and kissed her again, she felt as if she was melting from the inside out. His touch was magical, sending feathers of promise and delight singing along her veins. When he slowed their steps and reached for the fastener on her jeans to slowly slide her zipper down, she felt as though her entire body was humming like a tuning fork. She helped him push the denim to the floor and stepped out of the pool of fabric.
For a second she felt self-conscious about the burn scars that snaked over her lower legs, but then he kissed her and all thoughts of scars and the past fled.
His touch was so gentle, so reverent, she wanted to beg him to go further, harder, faster. But she was new at this. While she’d certainly been out with other men, even kissed a few, she’d never gone this far before. And what Piers was doing to her was making her insides quiver with a building tension that ached and demanded release.
Piers’s fingers skimmed her mound through her panties and she pressed against him.
“Eager, hmm?”
“You make me feel so much,” she acknowledged shyly. “But I...I want to feel more.”
“I promise I will make you feel everything you can imagine and that you will enjoy every moment of it.”
She chuckled softly, feeling a little self-conscious again. “Every moment?” she asked.
He pressed against her, his fingers cupping firmly between her thighs, leaving her quivering as an intense spear of longing pierced her.
“Every. Moment.” He kissed the side of her neck to punctuate each word.
The sensation of his lips on her skin sent a sizzling tingle through her body. Who knew you could feel this much from something as simple as a caress?
“I will hold you to that, then,” she said with all the solemnity she could muster.
“You know me. I love a challenge.”
She shivered a little as she felt his lips pull into a smile against her sensitive skin. And, yes, she did know him. So why was she letting him touch her like this? His relationships in the past three years had been many—more than enough for her to recognize the similarities. The women all beautiful. Statuesque. Worldly. Experienced. Nothing like her. Her mind started ticking overtime. Was he simply amusing himself with her? Looking for someone to scratch an itch with and she was “it” purely by proximity and lack of other options?
And then his hands skimmed her rib cage and cupped her breasts, his fingers gently kneading the softness while his lips and tongue traced a line from the curve of her neck down to the tips of her tightly budded nipples. His teeth grazed one nipple as he drew it into the heated cavern of his mouth and all thought fled her mind as his tongue rasped her flesh. A moan escaped her and she clung to his broad shoulders