On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [82]
When she straightened up, fully naked, skin prickling in the chilled air of the bedroom, she saw that Devon was still frozen beside the bed, one hand fisted tightly in the coverlet.
There was nothing frozen about his eyes, though, and the air that had begun to feel too cool suddenly heated up under the warmth of his gaze.
“Now you,” Lilah said. Her voice was husky and languid, a stranger’s voice, as if a seductress spoke through Lilah’s mouth. Method acting, she thought a little hysterically. Feel sexy and you’ll be sexy.
And then all thoughts whirled away like dandelion fluff on the breeze, because Devon started pulling his clothes off.
His chest gleamed in the low light, the muscles clearly defined and sharp like something out of a magazine. He was golden tan all over, all over, and Lilah could just picture him on some exclusive private island, sunning himself in all his glory without a care in the world.
Her gaze fell to the thick, hard penis rearing straight up against his flat, ridged stomach, and Lilah had to swallow hard.
This was nothing like the shower, where by the time Lilah knew what was happening, Devon was there and bare and making her head spin.
This was so deliberate. They were facing each other, eyes open and clear, stripping down to nothing in preparation for coming together in the most intimate way possible.
A frisson of fear skated up Lilah’s spine. It was possible this was an even more dangerous decision than she’d first thought.
And then there was no time to worry about the consequences because she and Devon moved at the same time, arms out and reaching, and clashed together in the middle of the room with a desperate heat and speed.
His mouth was heavy over hers, teeth sharp and merciless, but Lilah was just as ravenous and out of control. For a wild moment, she wanted to bruise him, nip him hard enough to draw blood, to mark him as hers for the whole world to see in the light of day tomorrow.
Lord have mercy. Was she ever in trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nothing in the world tasted better than Lilah Jane Tunkle’s neck, Devon decided. He fastened his mouth there, on the left side of the slender column, and let the salty-sweet taste of her explode over his taste buds.
His hands mapped out her juiciest bits, the curves and hollows he remembered so well. She lifted into his arms, her spine bending and pushing her into him. Devon groaned as his cock slid against her belly. He rocked his hips indulgently, loving the silken glide of skin on skin.
Lilah wriggled, her thighs parting restlessly around one of Devon’s, and he reached down to palm her delectable ass and drag her bodily into closer contact. The open heart of her pulsed wet and scorching against his leg, and the sound Lilah made as he pressed her down on him made Devon want to throw her to the ground and pump himself into her.
But she asked for the bed, so bed she would have. He picked her up and started to carry her over to it, but every step rubbed his thigh more firmly into the cradle of Lilah’s hips, producing more husky little cries, and Devon got distracted.
Kneading his fingers into the softness of her plump cheeks, he took her mouth in a starving kiss. Lilah opened to him, panting into his mouth, and Devon’s legs started shaking.
They weren’t going to make it to the bed.
He dragged her down to the floor with him before they fell over, blessing his decorator for finishing this room with a lush, thick-piled rug of dusky blue and chocolate brown.
Devon went down on his back and pulled Lilah on top of him, reveling in the sight of her undulating torso rising over him as she straddled his thighs and sat up.
Her amazing hair spiraled out from her head and down her shoulders in an untamable mass of dark ringlets and corkscrew curls. A deep red flush suffused her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were nearly black with passion, all wide-blown pupil with a thin ring of jade.
“Now,” she gasped. “Oh, please, now.”
Devon’s hips bucked involuntarily at that hoarse plea—and a sudden thought gripped his heart with terror.