What was happening? What was he doing to her? Was she feeling the desire she’d seen in telenovelas and movies, the kind she’d always believed was fiction?
“That’s it. That’s my girl…” His voice, low and full of approval, filled her with an even more dangerous pleasure.
He sucked her aching nipple into his mouth once more while stroking the other. Laila hissed, unable to stop surrendering to the sensations. It was as if he controlled her body—and her mind. Despite being naked, she wished she could bare herself to him more. She ached to be closer, though he was already on top of her, pressed against her from shoulders to thighs. Laila settled for kissing his temple, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and lifting to him, desperate to erase what little space remained between them.
“I can’t keep my mouth off of you. You’re even sweeter than I thought.” He devoured her with another hot sweep of his lips.
She savored the masculine flavor of his kiss as he gripped her hip with one hand and wrapped her hair in his fist with the other. Though his big body pressed her into the mattress, holding her exactly where he wanted her, she didn’t feel trapped, just pleasured.
When he finally tore away, panting, he looked down her body, his eyes turning even darker. “I’m definitely going to hell.”
His words had barely registered before he was on her breasts again—thumbing, rubbing, laving, inhaling. Her thoughts faded as he touched the desperate points, sucking them, nipping them until she moaned and melted.
His hands roamed the rest of her—torso, hips, thighs, backside—stroking, squeezing, and surveying as his mouth left her nipples, continuing down to her abdomen to explore her navel. He dragged his tongue over her skin and muttered growled words she couldn’t hear over the roaring of her heart.
Soon he would mount her and push inside her. He probably wouldn’t mean to hurt her. He might even care if he did. But he was a man; that wouldn’t stop him.
Laila fought disappointment and told herself to be practical. Experiencing tingles and heady aches weren’t the reason she was in bed with this man. Neither were goose bumps and racing blood.
She was in his bed to get him off so he would fall asleep, nothing more.
Spreading her legs wider, she lifted her hips to encourage him. Instead of impaling her, he continued down the bed, down her body, inching and kissing a little at a time until his mouth loomed over her there.
Laila blinked at him, wide-eyed, her heart suddenly zipping harder and faster than ever. He raised a brow, his blunt gaze scorching her. She held her breath.
Surely he wouldn’t kiss her in that most forbidden place. Did men do that?
In the near dark, his eyes glowed hot with desire as he caressed her thighs, working his fingers under her knees and spreading her wider. “Laila? Honey…”
His deep-voiced entreaty made her whimper. Was he asking her permission?
“Do you want this?” He skimmed a pair of fingers over her swollen, shockingly slick flesh, igniting nerve endings she’d never known existed.
“Want what?” she panted.
“For me to taste you. Let me.” His voice dropped another octave to a dark, compelling rumble as he raked a finger between her folds. Then he sucked the dripping digit into his mouth with a groan.
She shivered. Would he really do it? What would that feel like?
“If you wish.” She worked to keep the whine out of her voice and not sound as if she was begging.
“Oh, I do. I’m going to make sure you love every minute of it.” He lowered his head and dragged his tongue between her folds with a low groan, licking the most sensitive place between her legs as if she were a tasty treat.
Sensation stunned Laila. She shuddered and panted out a hard breath.
Dios mío! “What are you doing?”
Trees parted her wide with his thumbs and raked his tongue through her furrow with more gusto, nearly melting her into the mattress. “Enjoying the hell out of you. Does it hurt?”
He could ask that question with a straight face? “No.”
“Good.” Trees lapped at her again, then dragged her hard nubbin between his lips and sucked.
Blood and ache surged between her legs. Heat jolted through her body as her nipples stabbed the air. Laila struggled to breathe—and she no longer cared if he knew it.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
Only with the fact that his every touch thrilled her. “No.”
“Glad to hear it.” He flicked at her bud, tonguing the very tip before wrapping his lips around it and drawing it into the heat of his mouth again.
Her tingles didn’t merely grow; they multiplied. Dizziness made her head float. Or was that her heavy breathing she couldn’t seem to control? What was happening to her?
“Do you want me to stop?”
She should. But need crashed through her system and shut down her brain. It might be foolish and wrong, but she craved more.