&
nbsp; In a smooth motion, he uncorked the wine as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “We should let it breathe for a few minutes,” he said, setting it off to the side.
“Breathe,” I repeated, more to remind myself to do so than to agree with him. He was so close to me now that I could smell his cologne. It was light and clean, yet incredibly masculine. It drew me in closer to him, making me want to rub myself all over him like a cat in heat. I couldn't think of anything but how much I wanted Bastian to do more than just stand here and breathe.
I looked up at him. Every fiber of my being wanted me to throw myself at him, to kiss every inch of his skin I could get my lips on. From the way he was looking at me, he felt the same. The sexual tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I couldn't stop thinking of our kiss. My hands on his chest. His taste. His fingers tangled in my hair...
The wind ruffled the curtains as it came in off the ocean, and as if on cue, our willpower to stay apart broke at the same time. Whatever was holding us back and keeping us acting like civil, rational adults was blown away on that wind.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he slid his hand into my hair and put the other to my hip. He pulled me into him, pressing his body against mine as our lips collided. His lips were on mine, stealing my breath and making my knees wobble and go weak.
The kiss was hot and heavy, full of the first desperate rush of desire. There was need and want in this kiss that I couldn't fight against, didn't want to fight against. I could sense the same inner struggle for control waging in him as he kissed me senseless.
Every ounce of desire poured from his mouth into mine. His face was rough with stubble from the day, but it felt deliciously male and masculine beneath my lips. I rocked my body into his, wanting more and a low groan rumbled in his chest and his hands tightened. It was more than just wanting. This was a desperate craving that I couldn't resist.
My body reacted instantly. All the flirting and secret glances, the fluttering eyelashes and hidden smiles, they were all teasing me for this moment. Now that I had him, with no one to walk in or interrupt us, I wasn't willing to stop at just a kiss. Not when he kissed like this.
His kiss put all sorts of naughty ideas, desires and wants, hurtling through my veins like a drug. I couldn't get enough and I wanted more. More than just this kiss. I pressed my chest against his, trying to soothe the ache growing at the tips of my breasts. I need more.
Reaching for his shirt buttons, I slowly undid each one as he undid my soul with kisses. He kissed me slow and long, learning the corners and curves of my lips and mouth. His tongue caressed mine, tempting me to just rip off the shirt and have my way with him. Instead, I went slow, letting him tease and excite me with his expert kisses.
With the buttons undone, I pushed the light fabric from his shoulders. He paused in his kissing to help shrug off the dress shirt, raising his arms for a moment to remove the white undershirt beneath.
I had seen him shirtless this morning. I knew he was a big man, but to see him now, muscles rippling and waiting for my touch, I trembled. Scars twisted along his smooth skin as he moved, but I found them strangely beautiful. He was pure testosterone and sinew beneath them, and they added an element of darkness to him that I couldn't resist. I wanted to kiss every one of them and run my fingers along every inch of his skin.
“You're beautiful,” I whispered, not even meaning to say anything aloud. I bit my lip and he blushed slightly. The pink on his cheeks looked out of place on his strong features, but wonderfully human and real. It made my heart speed up even more.
He leaned forward, pulling me into yet another amazing kiss. I melted into him, pressing my palms into his muscled pecs and feeling pure strength. His fingers pulled at the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. The cool breeze from the window hit my skin, making me shiver with the unexpected sensation.
Ducking his head, he kissed the lace along the edge of my bra, sending heat straight down to my legs. My lips kissed his jaw, the corded muscles of his neck, his shoulders—any patch of perfect skin I could reach. I couldn't resist taking a bite of his muscled shoulder. I couldn't control myself.
“Do it again,” he dared me, nipping at my own shoulder and making me shiver.
Looking behind him at the couch, I pushed his shoulders gently to sit. He willingly obliged, looking me up and down before I straddled his lap. The bulge in his pants pressed upward against the ache of warmth between my legs, teasing me with what was next.
“Oh, Ava...” he groaned, tilting his hips up for more. Desire rippled through me at the need in his voice. I couldn't think straight, let alone breathe when he sounded that raw with want.
He pushed one white bra strap from my shoulder, leaning forward to nibble on the exposed flesh while pushing the other side off as well. I gasped as he reached his arms around me, undoing the bra claps with only a little bit of difficulty. Torture was the only word to describe the wait as he pulled the lacy bra away, his eyes going dark with desire as he saw my bare skin.
He lowered his head, slowly placing one very excited nipple into his mouth. His teeth and tongue worked it into a hard ball of desire. While his mouth worked on one, he didn't neglect the other. He rolled the sensitive peak between his thumb and forefinger, pulling and teasing it until I couldn't tell which side felt better.
My head fell back and I arched into him, driving my hips against the hard swelling of man beneath me. I had never come off of just this, but what he was doing was threatening to get me there.
“You are so perfect,” Bastian murmured, his eyes dilating with want as he watched me writhe. I wasn't sure if he had meant to say the words aloud, but there they were. I looked at his blue-gray eyes and was surprised at the honesty and reverence in them. He thought I was perfect.
No one had ever looked at me like that. No one had ever told me I was perfect. Hot, occasionally, or pretty. But never perfect. But when he looked at me, I knew he meant it. His simple words sent me reeling, and I buried my head in his shoulder, trying to keep myself steady. Perfect.
“Ava?” Bastian stroked my hair, and I sat back up. Our eyes connected.
“Yes,” I whispered. Yes. Anything he could ask of me, the answer was yes. I nodded and kissed him, undulating my hips to tell him that, yes, I wanted everything. I wanted him.
He smiled against the kiss, understanding me without speaking another word. In a smooth motion, he twisted and flipped our positions so that I was now laying on the couch with him straddling me. I loved being under him. He kissed down my throat, pausing to nibble on my collarbone before gently nipping at one breast. He didn't stop there. Leaving a trail of kisses, he kept working south until coming to my pants.
He tugged at my pants and I raised my hips up to let him take them off. He pulled them down and tossed them on the ground, licking his lips as he looked me over. For the first time in a long time, I felt sexy. Wanted. The way he looked at me drove me wild- like he was barely containing the beast inside of him from coming out and gobbling me up right there.
Slowly, so slowly it was close to torture, he pulled the lace around my hips down and off. One finger traced the curve of my stomach from my belly button to my hip bone, circling it before going central again and stopping directly at the sensitive apex of my legs. I trembled, waiting for whatever was coming next. Just having his finger on me was driving me insane with desire, making me ache and heat.
He used his finger as a guide and kissed me right where the ache was growing unbearable. I gasped, my hips arched upward into his mouth with the sudden explosion of pleasure. He chuckled, pushing my legs wider with his broad shoulders to give him better access to do it again.