He brushed his thumb along my chin. “No. Not tonight. We’ll get to that. But you will do as I say right now. Is that clear?”
I nodded, pleasure tripping through me, making me wetter.
He issued a command, saying, “Answer me with words, Nina.”
I gulped. “Yes. I understand.”
“Good,” he said, absently running his hand over the outline of his erection. So hot. “Tell me something.”
“Yes?”
He lifted his chin, his eyes roaming over me, lingering on my breasts. I glanced down, took in my erect nipples poking through the soft fabric of my shirt. I arched my back, the material straining further as he asked, “Are you wet from the way I kissed you?”
I nodded. “So wet.”
“Are you aching for me to touch you?”
Oh God. I wasn’t going to last long. “So ready,” I said, breathless.
“Good. Now turn around and put your hands on the counter.”
Swiveling around, I did as I was told, gripping the edge. His hands were fast, practiced.
Unbuttoning my jeans, unzipping, sliding them down my hips. He was exposing me, and my muscles tightened. I wasn’t ashamed of my body. Not in the least. But with each inch he revealed, I was keenly aware that my friend was seeing me in a new way, just like he’d seen inside my mind when he read the list. Now he’d be seeing my body fully. All my skin, all my flesh.
No one had.
No man had ever taken my clothes off before.
In seconds, my jeans hit my calves, and I tried to step out of them. “No,” he growled. “Leave them right there.”
He kicked the inside of my right ankle, then my left, spreading me as far as I could go with my jeans pooled at my legs. Like a restraint. Like I had imagined.
He rose, humming. “Your ass. Your fantastic ass. I bet it’s as luscious as I’ve imagined it was so many damn times,” he said, cupping my cheeks over my panties.
Reality slammed into me. He’d thought about my bare ass before? And I had the answer to the question I’d asked myself moments ago—had that desire been there before or had I unleashed it in one night?
This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about me like this. I wasn’t a new notion to him, and quite possibly he’d been craving me for some time.
My head didn’t know what to make of this new intel, but my body did—my skin sizzled. My heart slammed harder against my chest, an insistent, demanding rhythm of lust and longing.
Adam wanted me, had wanted me for a while, and I liked his desire.
I liked everything he was doing to me tonight too.
He slid my panties down to my ankles, leaving them there with my jeans. And leaving me half-naked before him in my kitchen. Exposed, wet, needy.
And waiting.
8
Adam
There were beautiful sights.
A snow-capped mountain in the Pacific Northwest.
A waterfall in Hawaii.
A cobblestoned street in Paris.
And then there was Nina Bellamy—smooth white skin; toned, supple legs; and the most fantastic ass I’d ever seen.
Those cheeks.
I wanted to bite them. To leave teeth marks on her flesh.
Twin globes of squeezable, kneadable, absolutely spankable flesh. And I had to get my hands on every inch of her body that was begging for my touch. She raised her ass, offering herself to me, and hell, did I ever need her.
But first, I had to give the woman what she wanted.
Her list was branded on my brain, so I took off my belt slowly, loop by loop, letting her hear the slap of the leather against my palm as I removed it. “You want it like this, dirty girl,” I rumbled.
“Yes, yes, I do.”
“And you’re going to get what you want.”
With my belt removed, I curled my body over hers, my chest to her back, my hands reaching for her forearms, pulling them closer. She arched against me, seeking contact. “Such a greedy girl. Is it hard for you to wait?” I asked as I wrapped the belt around her wrists.
“So hard.”
“I bet you’re soaked. I bet you’re aching for my fingers. I bet you’d beg for my cock right now.”
“Oh God. Yes. I would. Do you want me to?”
It was a desperate cry from her, and I hated denying it. But we’d get there. “Well, you can’t have that tonight. Dirty girls need to wait,” I told her as I fastened the belt around her soft hands. Then I tightened it one more notch, and she let out a wild moan, chased by a question. “What can I have tonight?”
“If you show me how much you want my fingers, I’ll give you everything you need. But you have to show me, Nina. Show me how badly you’re aching for me.”
She stretched her arms across the counter, bending her back into a flat line, lifting her ass even higher. She turned her face to me, the good student eager to please her teacher. “Is this good?”
I gazed at her glistening sex.
She was bare, ready, and so goddamn beautiful.
Pink, virginal, pure.
And, according to her list, I was going to be the first one to touch her.
What a gift.
What a heady gift.
I’d take my sweet time opening this gift as I gave her the fantasy she craved—bound, exposed, fingered from behind.
My hands curled around her succulent ass, and she moaned, a delicious, needy sound.
I squeezed her flesh, savoring the feel of her in my palms.
She wriggled against me, her body making it damn clear that she liked it. That she wanted more.
That she needed to be touched, stroked, taken.
I planned to give it all to her, but first I had to go off script. For her, and for me. Because I wanted something desperately. As I kneeled behind her, she gasped, turning to look at me. Her eyes were wide and innocent.
Etched with filthy curiosity.
“I’m going to give you number four, but I need just a taste of you first,” I said, then licked a tantalizing line across her ass. Right there. That tempting crease where her ass met the top of her thigh. That absolutely intoxicating location on the map of a woman’s body. I traveled across it, flicking my tongue along that boundary.
She tasted so sweet, her skin smelling faintly of cherries. Of course. Cherries are sexy. They’re lipstick red. Lingerie red.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
I lavished the same attention on her other cheek, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Salty and sexy.
I couldn’t wait to taste her.
I rose and dipped my hand between her legs.
She gasped, then pressed her lips together, like she was holding in sounds.
I slid one finger across the most slippery, perfect flesh I’d ever felt. She shivered, but still stayed quiet.
That wouldn’t do. I had to help her through her nerves.
I dropped the dirty, rough tone I’d been using. “Nina, are you afraid to make a sound?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, sounding fearful. “I’ve never done this. Except in my head.”
I bent over Nina, pressed my cheek to hers, gentle in my question. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no. It’s just . . .”
“Just what, baby?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering, but not from pleasure—from worry. “Adam . . . what if I’m too loud? What if the sounds I make are ridiculous?”