ach
other in—the atmosphere charging between us, almost
crackling, neither saying anything, just looking. I bite my lip
as desire for this beautiful man seizes me with a vengeance,
igniting my blood, shallowing my breath, pooling below my
waist. I see my reactions reflected in his stance, in his
eyes.
In a beat, he grabs me by my hips and pulls me to him
as my hands reach for his hair and his mouth claims me.
He pushes me against the fridge, and I hear the vague
protesting rattle of bottles and jars from within as his
tongue finds mine. I moan into his mouth, and one of his
hands moves into my hair, pulling my head back as we
kiss, sa一vagely.
“What do you want, Anastasia?” he breathes.
“You.” I gasp.
“Where?”
“Bed.”
He breaks free, scoops me into his arms, and carries
me quickly and seemingly without any strain into my
bedroom. Setting me on my feet beside my bed, he leans
down and switches on my bedside lamp. He glances
quickly round the room and hastily closes the pale cream
curtains.
“Now what?” he says softly.
“Make love to me.”
“How?”
Jeez.
“You ha一ve got to tell me, baby.”
Holy crap. “Undress me.” I am panting already.
He smiles and hooks his index finger into my open
shirt, pulling me toward him.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and without taking his blazing
eyes off mine, slowly starts to unbutton my shirt.
Tentatively I put my hands on his arms to steady
myself. He doesn’t complain. His arms are a safe area.
When he’s finished with the buttons, he pulls my shirt over
my shoulders, and I let go of him to let the shirt fall to the
floor. He reaches down to the waistband of my jeans,
pops the button, and pulls down the zipper.
“Tell me what you want, Anastasia.” His eyes smolder
and his lips part as he takes quick shallow breaths.
“Kiss me from here to here,” I whisper trailing my
finger from the base of my ear, down my throat. He
smoothes my hair out of the line of fire and bends, lea一ving
sweet soft kisses along the path my finger took and then
back again.
“My jean
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