He scooped her in his arms with a sudden movement and took two steps to the bed, setting her down on it.
“You have the most beautiful skin,” he said as he stroked the soft spot beneath her ear. “Has anyone told you how soft it is?”
“No one. Only you.”
“Has anyone kissed you here, Aine? You can tell me the truth.”
He trailed his lips from her ear, back to her nape, holding her hair out of his way so he could run his tongue down her spine. Aine’s fingers gripped the bedding, and chill bumps covered her exposed skin. If this was her reaction to simple kisses, he couldn’t imagine how responsive she’d be once he got her naked.
“The things I want to do to you,” he murmured.
“I want you to. Everything you want, I want you to do it.”
His fingers slid between the fabric of her blouse and her skin until he felt the clasp on her bra. He unfastened it—wanting everything at once. He wished he could magically remove her shirt and pants at the same time so she’d instantly be naked before him. Instead, he stood. If it couldn’t be quick, he’d savor it.
“Stand and remove your clothes, Aine.” The same look of vulnerability he’d seen moments ago settled on her face. “Do it, Aine. Let me see you. I want to see all of you.”
Her fingers visibly trembled as she did as he asked, removing every piece of clothing covering the most perfect body he’d ever seen.
Her breasts were plump and heavy, with rose-colored nipples that pulled tight into nubs hardened by her desire.
“Come closer to me,” he told her, sitting in the chair and opening his legs so she could stand before him, close enough to touch.
He started at her face, running his fingers over her lips, down her chin, to her neck. He flattened both hands and grasped each of her breasts at the same time. She gasped when he kneaded them, likely harder than anyone ever had before.
Striker could only be gentle so long, and it was best she learned that upfront. He’d take possession of her body without hesitation, and if she didn’t like it, he would know they didn’t belong together. Something told him that she wouldn’t disappoint him. His hands trailed farther down her body, pulling her closer to him so he could feel every inch of her, own every inch of her.
“Do I scare you?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
“Don’t lie to me, Aine.” He put his hands on her waist and held tight.
“Touch me,” she pleaded, arching her back to bring her sex closer to him.
Unable to resist her pleas, Striker forced her back on the bed. Her eyes widened as she watched him shed his clothes.
“Spread your legs, Aine. I want to look at you.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“Touch yourself, baby. Show me how much you want me.”
Her fingers trailed to the place between her legs where he couldn’t wait to have his own hands and mouth.
“Eyes open,” he said, lowering himself over her and taking one nipple between his teeth. “Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” he asked between nips of her flesh.
“No,” she stammered.
He took his time making his way down her body until his mouth was where her fingers were. He grasped her wrist and brought them to his mouth. She groaned when he licked away her wetness.
?
?Still, Aine,” he said when her body began to writhe.
“I can’t,” she moaned. “God, Griffin, I need you.”
“Soon, baby,” he soothed, putting his mouth back on her.