One Bossy Proposal: Enemies to Lovers Romance
I pull my sweater off then, revealing a hunter-green teddy underneath.
His breath catches and he swallows hard.
“You’re wearing lingerie under your clothes.”
I nod.
He traces the silk cup over my breast while his eyes stay on mine.
“This color looks good on you, but so would a paper bag. Your eyes glow.” His voice is husky.
“You’re still looking at my eyes?” My lips quirk up.
He loops his fingers into the waist of my skirt and yanks me toward him.
“Fuck no. They’re hypnotic, but so is the rest of you.” His mouth comes to mine.
My fingers go to work, hot and nimble, undoing his shirt buttons.
His tongue slides across mine as his fingers rip down my gown.
He wraps his arms around me then, pressing me greedily against him, making me feel his hardness.
Holy hell.
As long as I live, this will never get old.
I work the button of his pants free as he kisses me senseless, his lips moving to my throat.
We slink to the floor together with a mess of throw blankets stolen from the couch under us.
I push his jeans down and then his boxers.
He lies over me, his eyes bright and fiery and unrelenting.
I tremble under him.
His hands come to my breasts, and he undoes the first row of clasps running down the front of the teddy.
“I’m going to unwrap you—” He undoes the second. “Piece.” The third. “By piece.”
Four. Five. Naked.
His tongue sweeps the hollow space between my breasts, running along each side.
His rough fingers glide down to my belly button and dart up again, hands made for sex. He gazes at me like he could devour me. Sensuous, but sweet.
“Nevermore, this was the best surprise of my life,” he rumbles against my ear.
“Maybe I’ll wear green on our wedding night. If you’re lucky...” The words are out before I realize I’m starting to believe there will be a wedding night.
Oh, boy.
He gives me a smug look. “Already planning it, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I smile back.
He picks up my left hand and kisses the ring. “I like that. About as much as I like you wearing my mark.”
Singing.
Deep down inside, I’m vibrating with euphoria—or is it just this happy lust for the only man worth owning my soul?
He drops my hand and returns to where he started.
“I need you inside me,” I whisper.
His fingers trail down, arching over my pussy to the round, throbbing bead in my center. He presses his fingertip against it, drawing slow, intense circles.
In three seconds, I’m almost in the zone, my head bent back and breathless.
His lips take mine. Our tongues meet, but his finger never strays from my clit, winding steady circles that push me closer to the edge.
“Lincoln,” I whimper.
His teeth grab my bottom lip, making me a willing hostage while he slides his fingers inside me.
It doesn’t take long.
Soon, I’m grinding against him helplessly, so close to a devastating O my legs shake.
Then he slides his arm under me, pushing me up, shoving my legs apart.
He holds me closer, his eyes dueling flames locked on mine as the head of his cock brushes my clit.
“Oh, God.”
His mouth moves to mine, teasing me while he holds back. So painfully close to filling me, but only moving up my seam with a hard-on like steel skinned in velvet.
Lips.
Tongue.
Breath.
Teeth.
His tongue sweeps the seam of my lips, tasting me with a slow torture that makes me writhe.
“How is it you look so damn sexy when you beg?” he whispers, returning his mouth to mine with a deeper, sweeter kiss before I can answer.
I’m rampant now, hooking my arms and legs around him, urging him to take me, please! any flipping which way he chooses.
His hands shift to my ass, squeezing both cheeks, spreading me open and deepening the way he claims me when his hips thrust forward and—
“Lincoln. Lincoln!” His name is the only word I manage through the delicious madness lodged in my throat.
The only word I can even comprehend when his tongue sweeps mine again.
I grasp at his hair, pulling him closer, melting in our kiss as he drives inside me with frenzied strokes that match the sear in his eyes.
“Goddammit, Dakota,” he snarls against my mouth.
Deeper, deeper, and deeper still.
Even if we wanted to take this slow, there’s no hope of that now.
We’re too needy. Too desperate. Too hungry to feed the same flame consuming us both.
My hips arch up, meeting his rapid strokes as my core tightens and my eyes pinch shut.
He sinks into me, his thrusts so swift and intense they might break me—and God, do I want them to.
Still kissing my forehead, he tucks his chin over my head and plunges in to the hilt, his body flexing like a storm made flesh.
Holy shit!
My body clenches in surrender.
That wave of absolute bliss has to be Lincoln emptying himself inside me, his masculine force vibrating through me like thunder.