With deliberate care she slid one hand around his waist and wrapped her fingers delicately around his sex. The effect was instantaneous, making her feel womanly and powerful all at once.
‘If you do that, you’ll find this won’t last anywhere as long as it could,’ he growled, and she loved the rawness in his tone.
‘That’s the idea,’ she whispered. ‘Because I don’t think I can hold out much longer.’
A primal sound slipped from his throat as he shifted from her, easing down her body and using his hand to move her legs apart.
‘At last,’ she sighed, waiting for him to settle between them.
But instead of his body, he edged down with his shoulders, lifting his head only long enough for her to see the wicked gleam in his eyes.
‘You can last,’ he rasped. ‘I insist on it.’
And then he buried his mouth, his tongue, into her heat, before she could answer, and she heard herself cry out.
Anouk had no idea how long he stayed there, paying homage to her as she could only clutch at his hair, his head, his shoulders, her raspy breath and abandoned cry the only sounds to break the silence. His murmurs of approval echoed through her, against her, as he feasted all the more making her shatter once, twice against his tongue then his fingers.
You are ruined, a voice whispered. You will never, ever meet another man like Sol. There is no other man like Solomon Gunn.
But she couldn’t allow herself such thoughts. That path only led to misery. And so she ejected the unwelcome voice from her head and wriggled out from under Sol, pushing him onto his back, her eyes locking with his as she knelt over him and drew him deep into her mouth.
He was big and hot, like silky steel, and she forgot that she was meant to be distracting herself from the intimacy of his mouth on her body and instead lost herself in the intimacy of her tongue swirling over and around him. She was tormenting him and pleasuring him with every second. The way she’d learned to do this past week. The way she never seemed to tire of doing. She probably never would.
She shut the errant thought down once again, concentrating on the moment. Reminding herself that this was just about sex. Only ever about sex.
There could be nothing more.
Lifting her eyes, she made herself focus on Sol. The intensity of his gaze and the unmistakeable shudder of need that took over his body made her feel powerful, and wicked. And all woman. She sucked him in deeper, wanting to lose herself inside that power, in a way she’d never enjoyed with any man before Sol.
Only Sol.
But apparently he wasn’t prepared to let things end on her terms. With a low, primal groan, he pulled himself from her mouth and flipped her onto her back as he moved his body to cover hers. His hands traced every inch of her as though she was a revelation to him. It was incredible how precious, how special, she always felt when she was in his arms. Yet she was too hot, too needy, for any more play.
As though reading her mind, Sol shifted, nestling between her legs until she could feel his blunt end dipping into her.
‘Please, Sol,’ she breathed, desperate to lose herself in the primitive sensations that might drown out the other, more dangerous emotions that tumbled in her chest.
Emotions she told herself she had no name for.
Even as she was altogether too afraid that she could name them. Every last one.
And when Sol finally thrust inside her, deep and slow and sure, his gaze holding hers, she refused to let her eyes slide from him. She held her breath, for fear the words she refused to face might fall from them.
Sol moved, pulling out of her before driving home again. Deeper, tighter, hungrier. Driving her faster and faster towards the top. When she finally catapulted over the edge, and heard herself cry out his name, his eyes still holding hers as he followed her, she knew the truth in her heart but she still wasn’t prepared to hear Sol say it out loud.
Clear and raw, as though the words had been ripped from the very depths of his soul.
‘I love you, zolotse.’
‘No,’ she choked out. Then, louder, ‘No!’
‘I’m in love with you, Anouk.’ He tried the words again, rolling them around on his tongue, still in shock.
He was in shock. He hadn’t intended to say them, much less repeat them, and yet the inexplicable thing was that the more he said them out loud, the easier it felt. The more he liked the way they tasted in his mouth, the way they sounded to his ears.
Like a melody he’d thought he would never want to hear.
‘You can’t say that.’ She was furious. ‘I won’t hear it. Take it back.’