Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [42]
“Are you sure you don’t want to keep her around?” Cole had asked.
Clint’s response had been quick and resounding. “I’m positive. At the end of the thirty days she’s out of here.”
“Clint?”
The sound of Alyssa’s voice pulled him from his reverie. He realized his hand had moved higher on her thigh. He smiled when he answered her. “Yes?”
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, tilting her head back to look at him.
In an amazingly calm voice, he said, “I’m going to introduce you to another version of Playing with Fire, but the object of the game will remain the same. My goal is to blow you up and, baby, I’m about to make you explode all over the place.”
He murmured the words against her lips and felt them quiver beneath his. He then shifted her position in his lap to remove her T-shirt and wasn’t surprised to find her completely naked underneath her nightclothes. She said she trusted him; now he would see just how much.
He stood with her in his arms and then laid her back on the sofa, fully open to his view. His gaze slid over her, lingering on her breasts, the gold ring in her navel, her womanly core and her long, beautiful legs.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered, barely able to get the words out. Entranced, fascinated and totally captivated, he slowly dropped down to his knees in front of her, needing to touch her, taste her all over.
He reached out and his fingers immediately went to her breasts, cupping them in his hands before leaning closer to let the tip of his tongue taste the curve of her throat. Then he pulled back and watched his fingertips swirl around a budded nipple, feeling it pucker beneath his touch.
A soft moan escaped her lips and he saw she had closed her eyes, was biting on her lower lip. Little did she know he hadn’t even gotten started.
“How does my touch feel, Alyssa?” he asked in a low voice as he continued drawing circles around her nipples with his fingertips.
“Good,” she murmured in a voice so low he could barely hear her.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she responded and it seemed her words had been an effort. She refused to open her eyes to look at him.
He then slowly moved his hands, lowering them to her stomach, skimming the taut skin there. She felt soft to the touch and he smiled at the ring in her navel.
He eased his hand between her open thighs and heard her sharp intake of breath when he nudged her thighs even farther apart, wanting to touch and explore her everywhere. His fingers dipped inside of her. She was wet, drenched, and her scent consumed him totally.
Fighting the urge to taste her, he removed his hand from her and let his fingers travel downward past her knees and then to her beautiful feet. There wasn’t a part of her he wanted left untouched.
“Now for the taste test,” he whispered, determined to taste Alyssa’s first orgasm on his lips.
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “I don’t think I can handle much more.”
He smiled. “You can. Trust me.”
She nodded and he leaned forward and captured her nipples in his mouth. And things started from there. Never had he wanted to taste a woman so badly, and he went about showing her how much. She looked so sensual and sexy that intense emotions tore into him as he moved his mouth lower to the area he craved.
She let out another deep groan the moment he lowered his head between her legs, and when the tip of his tongue touched her she nearly came off the sofa. But he had no intentions of letting her go. He pulled back only long enough to shift her body to place her legs over his shoulders. He was filled with a primitive sexual energy that was consuming him. He intended to transfer that energy to her in this very intimate way.
He tightened his hold on her hips and lowered his mouth to her and immediately found his mark, capturing her womanly core, locking his mouth to it. She tasted sweet. She released a litany of moans and arched her back and he greedily began tormenting her with his tongue.
Her body was on fire, he could feel it. She was on the verge of exploding. He could feel that, as well. His