The Mister - Page 43

My body responds.

Fuck.

I want her. I want her now. I’ve wanted her forever.

I tilt her head back and move one hand to hold the nape of her neck, my fingers still in her hair. With the other hand, I circle her waist and pull her against the length of my body. I deepen the kiss, my lips more insistent. Alessia lets out a little gasp, and I seize the moment and tease her tongue with the tip of mine. She tastes as sweet as she looks, and she moans.

I light up like Piccadilly Circus.

She pushes at my chest, suddenly breaking our kiss, and stares up at me with a dazed, astonished look.

Shit. What’s this?

She’s breathless, flushed, and her pupils are dilated….

Man, she’s exquisite. I don’t want to let her go. “You okay?”

A shy smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, and she nods.

Does she mean yes or no?

“Yes?” I want clarification.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Have you ever been kissed?”

“Only by you.”

I don’t know what to say to this.

“Again,” she beseeches me, and I need no further prompting. My grief is a distant memory. I’m firmly in the now with this beautiful, innocent young woman. My fingers tighten in her hair, and I ease her head back so that her mouth is once more raised to mine. I kiss her again, tempting her lips apart with my tongue, and this time I’m met with the tip of hers.

I growl deep in my throat, my arousal complete, straining against black denim.

Her hands slide up my biceps, and she clings to me as our tongues stroke and tease and taste each other. Over and over.

I could kiss her all day.

Every day.

I slide my hand down her back to her perfect behind.

Oh. God.

Placing my palm on her backside, I push her against my erection.

She gasps and frees her lips from our kiss but doesn’t let me go. She’s breathing hard, eyes the color of night, wide and shocked.

Fuck.

I hold her startled gaze and, summoning every ounce of my self-control, I ask, “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she says quickly.

Thank fuck.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“This?” I ask, and press my hips against her.

She gasps.

“Yes, beautiful. I want you.”

Her lips part as she inhales.

“I want to touch you. Everywhere,” I whisper. “With my hands. With my fingers. With my lips. And with my tongue.”

Her eyes darken.

“And I want you to touch me,” I add in a husky tone.

Her mouth forms a perfect, soundless O. But her gaze shifts from my eyes to my mouth to my chest and back to my eyes.

“Too fast?” I ask.

She shakes her head. And fists her fingers in my hair and tugs, drawing my lips back to hers.

“Ah,” I murmur against the corner of her mouth as pleasure rushes down my spine to my groin. “That’s right, Alessia. Touch me. I want you to touch me.” I crave her touch.

She kisses me and hesitantly pushes her tongue between my lips. And I take all that she’s got to give.

Oh, Alessia.

We kiss. And kiss until I think I’m going to burst. I skirt the waistband of her pajamas and slip my hand inside against the warm, soft skin of her behind. She stills for a second, then grips my hair firmly, tugging hard, and kisses me with ardor—greedy and feverish.

“Easy,” I breathe. “Let’s take this slow.”

She swallows and places her hands on my arms, looking a little abashed.

“I like your hands in my hair,” I reassure her, and to make amends I run my teeth along her jawline up to her ear. Her moan is soft and husky as her head falls into the palm of my hand.

It’s music to my dick.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, and my fingers clench in her hair, tugging gently. Her chin lifts, and I anoint the underside of her throat with feather-light kisses until I reach her ear. With my other hand, I squeeze her behind, as my lips seek hers once more, my tongue teasing and exploring her mouth, giving and taking as her lips learn mine and I learn hers. I trail kisses down her neck to where her pulse beats fast and furious beneath her skin.

“I want to make love to you,” I whisper.

Alessia stills.

I cradle her face with both hands and brush her lips with my thumb. “Talk to me. Do you want to stop?” She bites her top lip, and her eyes dart toward the window, where the sky is color-washed with a splash of pink from the coming dusk. “No one can see us,” I assure her.

Her smile is hesitant, but she whispers, “Do not stop.”

I stroke her cheek with the backs of my fingers and lose myself in her dark, dark gaze. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nods.

“Tell me, Alessia. I need to hear you say it.” I kiss the corner of her mouth once more, and she closes her eyes.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Oh, baby,” I murmur. “Wrap your legs around me.” I clasp her waist and lift her, easily. She puts her hands on my shoulders. “Legs. Round me.” Face shining with what I hope is lust and excitement, she hooks her legs around my waist, and her arms circle my neck.

“Hold on.”

I take the stairs while she kisses my throat.

“You smell good,” she says, as if to herself.

“Oh, sweetheart, so do you.”

I set her down beside the bed and kiss her again.

“I want to see you.” My hands find the hem of her football shirt. Gently I pull it up and over her head. Even though she’s wearing a bra, she crosses her arms in front of her breasts as her hair falls in a dusky, curling cascade to her waist.

She’s shy.

She’s innocent.

She’s stunning.

I’m aroused and touched at once, but I want her to feel comfortable.

“Do you want to do this in the dark?”

“No,” she says immediately. “Not the dark.”

Of course. She hates the dark.

“Okay. Okay. I get it,” I reassure her. “You’re gorgeous.” My voice is filled with breathless wonder as I discard her shirt on the floor. I smooth her hair off her face, my hands finding her chin. I gently kiss her again and again until she relaxes, splaying her hands on my chest and kissing me back. Her fingers bunch in my sweater, and she tugs.

I peer down at her. “You want me to take this off?”

She nods with enthusiasm.

“For you, beautiful, anything.” I drag my sweater and T-shirt off and drop them beside her Arsenal FC top. She glances from my eyes to my naked chest, and I stay still…letting her look. “Touch me,” I whisper.

She gasps.

“I want you to. I don’t bite.”

Not unless you ask me to…

Her eyes light up, and carefully she places her hand over my heart.

Fuck.

I’m sure it somersaults beneath her fingers.

I close my eyes, enjoying the searing sensation.

She leans forward and kisses my skin where my heart is thundering.

Yes.

I sweep her hair off her neck and skim my lips down her throat and across her shoulder to her bra strap. I smile against her fragrant skin. Her bra is pink. With my thumb and finger, I ease her strap off her shoulder as her ragged breathing fills my ears.

Tags: E.L. James Romance
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