This was sooo much better.
Her thighs went rigid when he swiped his thumb across her clit and pressed. She clutched him close, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt, a low moan sounding from deep within her when he pressed even harder…
And then released his hold on her, pushing her away until there was enough distance between them that she couldn’t even touch him without taking a step forward.
“Wait.” His voice was ragged, as was his breathing. His hair was a mess, no doubt from her hands, and his lips were swollen. He rested his hands on his hips, looking every inch the hot and bothered man. “We need to take this slow.”
Slow. That was a funny word. Only moments ago she’d been this close to an orgasm. Right now her tense body wanted only fast, fast, fast. “Why?” she asked incredulously.
He laughed. The jerk. He looked quite pleased with himself while she was a shaky, on-edge mess. Yes, fine she could see the impressive outline of his erection beneath his jeans, but otherwise he didn’t seem fazed by this pause in the action at all.
“Why? Because I want to savor you.” His expression sobered, went from amused to aroused in mere seconds, and she went still, a shivery sensation seeming to engulf her entire body.
“Savor me?” The words came out in the barest whisper, and he smiled, tilting his head, studying her like she was his favorite subject.
“I have plans, Reagan. Like I said, it’s been a long time, and I want to make this good for both you and me.” His sexy, deep voice was full of promise. Promise she instinctively knew he could one hundred percent deliver.
Without another word, he turned and walked away. She followed without hesitation, her gaze roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. The suite was huge. Beautiful. But the lights weren’t on and she could hardly see anything. She wanted to see it all, too. Memorize it so she could store this away in her mind in the hopes she would never, ever forget this night.
He entered a room at the end of the hall, hitting the wall so the lamps on the bedside tables that flanked the giant king-sized bed came on. The light was dim, casting the room in a hazy golden glow, and she looked around, her gaze taking in the furniture, the casual tangle of clothes piled on an overstuffed chair, the unmistakable scent of Declan’s cologne filling the air.
She breathed deep and held it, closing her eyes, reveling in the scent. The man smelled amazing. The room itself was amazing. And when she opened her eyes to find Declan pulling his shirt off over his head, exposing his broad, muscular chest, all the breath left her in one exhale.
He was beautiful. Even better than any photo she’d seen in a magazine or what she’d watched from his movies. He tossed the shirt onto the chair, on top of the pile of clothes already there, before he settled his hands on the waistband of his jeans.
“Wait.” She went to him, resting her hands over his, unprepared for the blast of heat his bare torso radiated toward her. Oh, he had the smoothest skin she’d ever seen. Her fingers literally itched to touch him and so she gave in to the urge, releasing her hold on his hands so she could rest her palms directly on his pecs.
His eyelids lowered, he stared at her, watching as she skimmed her hands down, over his perfect abs, his flat stomach. “What am I waiting for?”
“I want the honors.” She curled her hands into his jeans, her finger
s going for the button fly as she yanked it undone, his black boxer briefs coming into view. Reaching inside, she ran her hand along the hot length of him, satisfaction filling her when she heard him growl. “You’re big,” she murmured.
And he was. About the biggest she’d ever touched, seen, had. A mixture of fear and arousal trickled down her spine as she wondered exactly how he might fit, which made her feel like an amateur. But it was a serious consideration. She’d had decent-sized men before. Average mostly—save for her first boyfriend in college, who had been a total pencil dick, which had equaled a total disappointment.
Declan Carter? The words pencil and dick did not compute. The man was thick and long. And hard.
Very, very hard.
Oh, and also very, very impatient. All thoughts of taking it slow must’ve left him and she must’ve taken too long for his tastes, because he pushed away her hands. Shucked his jeans in a fervor, kicking off his shoes along with the denim and leaving it in a pile on the floor.
All worry and fear left as Reagan let her gaze roam freely down the length of his beautiful body, so entranced she had no idea she’d let forth a wistful sigh until she heard Declan ask a question, his deep voice full of amusement.
“That bad? Or that good?”
She jerked her gaze to his, mortified. Never had she ogled a man like she was ogling Declan. “Definitely not bad,” she said weakly.
“Right back at you.” He spun his finger in a circle. “Turn around, Reagan.”
She did as he asked without protest, breathless when she felt his hands settle at the neckline of her dress. He tugged the zipper down, the fabric slowly parting, revealing her bare back. His fingers teased her exposed skin and she closed her eyes, pressing her lips together when he pulled the zipper down as far as it would go.
“Take it off,” he whispered, his mouth at her ear.
Without thought, she shrugged out of the beautiful red dress and let it fall in a heap around her feet. She stood in just her white satin panties, since she hadn’t worn a bra. The dress hadn’t allowed it.
“Jesus.” Her eyes flashed open at his muttered word and she turned around, her hands automatically going to her breasts, covering them. Did she look that bad? Was he disappointed? God, she would die. Just melt into the ground and hope like crazy she disappeared if he was somehow…displeased with what he discovered beneath the dress.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, her voice small, every one of her insecurities coming back at her tenfold.