Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
He hooked a finger in the back of the silk between her legs and pulled it taut so it pressed against her clit. “Are you soft and ready for me?”
Her body screamed yes even as she could only muster a soft, “Yes.”
He kissed the length of her throat, stopping at the sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck and nipped the delicate skin. One hand cupped her breast through her shirt, and she closed her eyes and moaned her approval. Then he was gone, his heat replaced by cool air.
She opened her eyes and saw him standing a foot away, stripping off his clothes. The view was impressive. He was all barely reined-in intensity and tight control as he grabbed behind his head and pulled off his T-shirt.
He gave her a long look up and down. “If you like those clothes, you better take them off or I’m going to rip them off you.”
She kept her arms aloft, unable to back down from the challenge. “And here I thought you were Mr. Lazy Carefree Doesn’t Care About Anything.”
“I care about getting you naked.” He reached out and snapped the elastic band of her knickers. “Now.
”
She could tease him some more, draw it out, drive him right to the edge, but just like she knew the moment he walked through the doors that he needed her, she needed him just as much. This attraction, this thing between them, it wasn’t just about need, though. It was more, and that scared her, but not nearly as much as the thought of being anywhere else than with him at this moment. He may not have wanted to come to England and she may not have ever wanted him to be here, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him anymore. She brought her fingers to the bottom button of her shirt and slipped it free.
…
It took the very last bit of Nick’s self-control not to reach out and pull Brooke’s shirt apart and send the buttons flying across the hallway.
But instead of giving in, he gripped his cock and slowly stroked it as she unbuttoned her shirt, let it slip from her body, and stepped out of the jeans pooled around her ankles. God, she was beautiful, and she wanted him.
The realization of just how much he needed not just someone but Brooke to want him almost knocked him to his knees.
This wasn’t how he worked. Before he’d come to England, he was a man with few friends—though the ones he had were as solid as oak—whose life was his work, his boat, and the lake behind his house. Now he’d been adopted by a village that had actually started to feel like home, was in line for an English title, and had a family again—even if that family consisted of one of the most bullheaded men he’d ever met who’d never have claimed Nick if he’d had another choice. However, none of that mattered to him nearly as much as the woman standing in front of him in her white bra and panties with her blond hair falling around her shoulders.
“Is this what you wanted?” she asked, taking a step forward and closing the distance between them, her fingers skimming down his abdomen.
“I want more.” He reached down and sent her silk panties fluttering to the floor. “I want all of you.”
The caveman inside him roared in agreement, and he swept Brooke up off the floor and strode with her in his arms—her mouth on his neck, his collarbone, his chest, anywhere she could reach—to his bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, settling her across his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. Gliding his hands from the smooth curve of her ass and up the line of her spine, he didn’t stop until he reached the hooks of her bra. He made fast work of the damn thing while she rocked her wet core against his aching dick, sliding it up and down on him while rotating her hips and driving him to the edge of sanity. If he didn’t change things up, he was going to come on her instead of in her, and that wasn’t going to fucking happen.
“You broke the rules,” he said, gripping her hips and flipping her over so she was on her back on the bed, her long legs dangling off the end.
“Never,” she said, her voice low and husky with want as she watched him move from sitting on the bed to being on his knees on the floor, one of her legs on either side of him. “I’m English. We follow the rules.”
“I told you to get naked. You didn’t.” He laid his palms on her knees and spread her legs. “Now you pay the price.”
“That sounds dastardly.” She slipped her bra off and tossed it to the floor. Then traced a finger up her bare thigh, drawing his attention to her glistening folds. “Do your worst.”
“I plan to.” He could already taste her on his tongue, but she wasn’t getting off that easy—not yet anyway.
He started with her calves, touching and caressing them as she cupped her tits, pinching the nipples and pulling them taut. His cock was heavy against his thigh, pre-cum wetting the tip. The need to sink himself deep inside her thundered inside him, but he held it in check. He wanted to watch her come first.
“That’s it,” he said between kisses and licks on her inner thigh, getting closer and closer to her core.
Continuing upward, he lingered at the edge of the tight, springy curls framing her wet folds. Her scent was intoxicating, and he moved his mouth within a half inch of her swollen clit, close enough to blow on it as she shivered in response.
“Nick,” she begged, lifting her hips. “Please.”
Ignoring the gift she offered up, he moved his attention to her other leg, just above her knee. “That’s not much of a punishment if I give you what you want.” He looked up at her and glided his hands up her thighs until they were as high as they could go, thumbs and fingers just barely brushing her curls. “You’ll thank me later.”
“Not bloody likely,” she said, her obvious frustration building along with her need.
“Are you going to follow the rules next time?” He reached out his thumb and touched her clit with light, feathery caresses, not enough to satisfy, just enough to make her want more.