A fierce storm may have been raging outside but here, inside her kitchen, deep within her body, another storm was raging. This one was just as turbulent as the one outdoors. And it wasn't helping matters that he was looking at her like she was something he wanted to eat.
"Lighting the fireplace isn't necessary," she said softly, barely able to get the words out.
"Would you rather we sit in your living room on the sofa?" he asked, not taking his eyes from her as his fingertips grazed the smoothness of her arm.
His touch was sending sensations escalating through her entire body and the only thing she could do was nod. Wesley removed his arm from around her shoulders and extended his hand to her. She took it and they walked through the kitchen to the living room. He sat down on the sofa then pulled her down into his lap.
She gasped in surprise and felt the heat of his gaze when she looked at him.
"Relax and let me warm you," he said softly, snuggling her closer into his arms. She felt the moistness of his breath against her forehead.
She sighed, deciding to give in and let him hold her while the rain beat down on the roof. Nothing was said between them as they sat listening to the sound of the thunderstorm and watching the occasional flash of lightning. Jasmine had never been afraid of storms, but for some reason, she appreciated the fact she was not alone—more so that Wesley was the one with her, holding her tight in his arms as if there was no other place he'd rather be.
The room was quiet, except for the sound of the storm and their even breathing. Then she suddenly noticed Wesley's breathing wasn't even anymore. It was beginning to come out choppy and rough. She noted the change the exact moment she felt the hard bulge in his pants press against her bottom.
A warm sensation slithered slowly up her spine and she shifted in his arms, lifted her face from his chest and looked at him. Their gazes locked, and slowly, lifting her mouth to his seemed the most natural thing to do.
He met her halfway, capturing her mouth, stealing whatever breath she had and kissing her as deeply as anyone could be kissed. His tongue probed, coaxed, and delivered a sudden throbbing between her thighs.
The kiss claimed everything within her—every thought, every sigh and every moan. Then it created greed, a need and a hunger for something she'd never had but desperately wanted. His tongue was hot, seductive, rapacious, pleasuring her senseless, growling with an urgency that could not be contained.
"I love the way you taste," Wesley murmured, breaking the kiss long enough to lick her jaw, throat and lips. "I haven't forgotten it since that night."
She hadn't forgotten his taste, either, she wanted to say but couldn't find her voice. Her pulse increased when he gently bit the flesh near her shoulder, softly branding her. He slipped his hand under her top to caress her breasts through the thin material of her bra and she let out a deep moan. She had never experienced anything like this. She inhaled deeply when he lifted her top and unsnapped the front closure of her bra, baring her breasts to his gaze.
"You're beautiful." The words poured from deep within Wesley's throat as he looked at her breasts, driven with a need to taste her all over. Her breasts were firm, high and the nipples were dark, inviting, enticing and he bent his head to taste her.
His tongue teased her for endless moments. Then he moved on to the other nipple, delivering the same wonderful torment. Jasmine clutched the back of his head to hold his mouth to her breasts.
Wesley's body responded to her like a schoolboy's. She stirred feelings within him that he'd never felt before. Suddenly, kissing her and tasting her breasts weren't enough. He wanted it all. He was consumed with a hot hunger that was burning deep within him and he needed only what she could give. He lifted his head and met her gaze, focusing sharply on her, needing to see her expression, her reaction to his next words.
"I want to make love to you."
Jasmine returned his gaze and he didn't move. He barely breathed as he waited for her response. He could tell she was thinking, accepting the fact that making love to him would change everything between them. The question of the hour was, was she ready for that? Was he?
He had to make her understand and he reached out and touched his fingertips to her lips. "I don't have all the answers, Jasmine. I don't want to consider the 'what-ifs.' All I know is that now, this very moment, I need and want you in a way I've never needed or wanted a woman before," he whispered huskily. "I want to go inside you so deep so that I'll know the heat of you and all your glorious warmth. I want to give us pleasure and fulfill our every desire. Will you let me?"
Blood rushed through Jasmine's veins and she wanted Wesley to claim her in a way no man ever had. She didn't want to think of the questions left unanswered or the 'what-ifs,' either. What she wanted was this night, this time with him. Tomorrow she would deal with the rest.
She wanted to concentrate on the man who held her in his arms; the man who was making her grateful that she was a woman.
And she gave him the only response she could. "I want you to make love to me, too, Wesley," she whispered.
A slow smile touched his lips and she felt her stomach clench with a need that almost made it impossible for her to breathe. Cradling her body into the warmth of his arms, he eased to his feet. Her arms looped around his neck, she lowered his mouth down to hers, needing to taste him again; the feelings he evoked within her were overpowering.
He parted her lips and took control of the kiss urgently as he clung to the last bit of his sanity. He slowly lifted his head to ask, "Where's the bedroom?"
She could barely get the words out to answer. "Ahead on your right."
With long strides, Wesley didn't waste any time making it to her bedroom. He glanced around, quickly admiring the décor before placing her in the middle of the huge, white oak sleigh bed. Jasmine lay against the pillow and watched him. He wanted her so much that he could barely think straight. He felt all his self-control dissolving and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
He sank down on the bed before her and began removing her clothes. After removing the sandals from her feet, he caressed the smooth silkiness of her legs. Moments later he removed her top and bra and when she lifted her hips, he slipped his hands beneath them to pull down her shorts, leaving her clothed in a pair of black lace panties.
He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and slowly eased them down her body. He leaned back on his haunches thinking she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Everything about her took his breath away.
Her eyes were on him as he stood and began removing his clothes—which turned him on even more. Although she didn't utter a single word, the look in her eyes urged him to hurry. That same heat and excitement surging through her also slammed into him but he wanted to take things slow and savor every sensuous minute.
Moments later he stood before her gloriously naked, his rich chestnut-colored body was totally male, utterly impressive and fully aroused.
He joined her on the bed and kissed her deeply, mating his tongue with hers the same way he intended for their bodies to mate. He felt his blood pound through his veins as she kissed him back, and her body trembled with the force of her emotions.
His fingers slipped between her legs and felt her heat, her moist desire. He began stroking her as he watched her pupils darken with need.
He needed to know her taste.
In one smooth move, he lowered his head and pulled her against his mouth as his hungry tongue went straight for her center. She jerked at the intimate contact and her fingers clutched the bedspread and lifted her hips for greater connection.
Jasmine thought she was going to lose her mind. Nothing should bring a person such astounding pleasure, such mind-curling enjoyment, she thought incoherently. She moaned deep within her throat as she moved her hips frantically, urgently against his mouth while her fingernails dug deep into his shoulders.
Then suddenly, the tension shattered within her and she cried out, arching her body closer to him, letting herself go and coming apart. She screamed out his name as he tongue-stroked her to sweet oblivion.
Jasmine heard the sound of foil tearing as she fought for breath. Then Wesley moved over her and she felt the heat of him sink slowly into her. She watched as his forehead creased when he encountered resistance. His head dropped back as he breathed deeply and tried to push forward.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders at the pain and when he lowered his head and met her gaze, she knew that he knew. The look on his face told it all. Their gazes locked for what seemed like an eternity. She felt his hesitation, sensed his resistance and was aware of his inner struggle. She had to let him know that no matter what, she wanted this. She needed this.
Reaching up she wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned up slightly to claim his mouth and kissed him.
Her tongue mated with his, restoring his passion and shattering his willpower. She felt his muscles tighten, his body flex. When he pushed harder, breaking through, she cried out and he absorbed her cry with his breath.
A moment later her pain subsided and she began returning his kiss. He slowly began moving inside of her and she felt it all the way to her bones. He ignited her pleasure with every smooth stroke. Heat raced to every part of her body and she surrendered to what her body—and his—demanded. And when he increased the tempo, advanced their rhythm to another beat, she tightened her feminine muscles around him, savoring the pleasure.