Restless, I stood to put our bowls in the sink. I felt him stand and cross over into the kitchen behind me. His presence was potent, all raw, primal, and easy masculinity. It wasn’t overpowering, but so complete.
Turning, I found him leaning against the counter, one hand curled on the edge and the other hooked in a pocket. There was nothing left to do just now, and anxiety spun inside me.
“Come’ere,” he murmured, his voice gruff.
Since apparently I did whatever Diego asked, I crossed the kitchen to stop in front of him. He reached a hand out, catching one of mine and reeling me closer to him. The heat emanating from him buffeted my body, and desire flickered to life, sending flames licking through me.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said slowly and with purpose, each word like a drop of liquid fire spinning into the need building inside me.
I licked my lips, and tried to take a breath. “Okay,” I whispered.
Then, his hand was sliding around my waist and pulling me flush against him. I felt his breath like a soft breeze on my skin as he dipped his head and dusted a kiss on my neck right behind my ear, sending a hot shiver through me. He made his way to my mouth at a leisurely pace, pressing hot, open kisses on the underside of my jaw. He dropped kisses at each corner of my mouth before he finally, finally, fit his mouth over mine.
That couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds, and yet the moment was so fraught with tension and need that by the time his tongue swept into my mouth, I was near frantic. I moaned shamelessly into our kiss, my tongue greedy against his. He growled in response, his hand sliding down to cup my bottom. I felt the hard, hot press of his arousal at the apex of my thighs. I wanted all of him. Now.
He devoured my mouth with masterful strokes, easing back only to nip at my lips and dive back in. I was greedy, one hand mapping his chest and the other stealing under his shirt. My God, he was all muscle. His skin was warm to the touch and felt alive as I stroked my palm across it.
He muttered something, tearing his lips free and taking in a ragged breath. I gulped lungfuls of air as my heartbeat thundered and blood rushed through my ears.
His eyes swept over my face. We were quiet, just staring at each other. The moment felt sharply intimate. I’d never felt such the center of anyone’s focus. This moment was all there was.
His palm slid away from where he’d been caressing the curve of my bottom. I instantly missed his touch, but then, he lifted his hand, his fingers trailing over my skin along the edge of my blouse. His light touch was a blaze of fire. He paused when his fingertip landed at the center, above the top button.
“Please,” I heard myself say, barely even recognizing the throaty, almost pleading quality to my voice. I wasn’t a girl who lost herself to passion. This was almost like witnessing a stranger inhabiting a part of myself I’d never known.
Because, apparently, Diego could read my mind, he flicked that top button open and worked his way down—one tantalizing button at a time.
Chapter Ten
Diego
Gemma’s blouse had these maddening tiny buttons. I’d never thought a button would have anything to do with the state of my body, but the tension created by them as I undid them one at a time felt like a coil tightening inside me. Matters were made decidedly worse by her breathy whimpers and the feel of her palm mapping across my chest.
When her shirt fell open, and I glimpsed her dark blue lace bra, heat sizzled up my spine, and I let out a rough groan. She was pressed against me, so I spun us around quickly, lifting her and sliding her hips on the counter. She let out a surprised gasp, and I felt a grin kicking up the corners of my mouth when I looked at her.
“Sorry to startle you there, sugar,” I murmured before stringing a trail of kisses along her collarbone.
I tortured myself a little, sliding my palm over the soft curve of her belly before coasting up to cup one of her breasts. It fit perfectly in my palm, a lush weight. I stroked my thumb over the lace, feeling her nipple pebble under my touch. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her breath came in sharp, rapid pants.
I needed her mouth again and closed the short distance between us to capture her plump, damp lips. She kissed like a dream, her mouth opening immediately, hot and sweet. Her tongue was sassy with mine, and she tasted a bit like chocolate, a special kind of heaven I hadn’t imagined. Chocolate and kisses went incredibly well together.
I took sip after languid sip of her mouth, all the while getting to know the feel of her body under my hands. I slid one hand around her waist over the silky skin, my fingers sliding just under the waist of her jeans to cup her bottom. I was relieved they weren’t too tight because I was all about easy access at the moment.
Everything about Gemma was soft and warm and sensual. Meanwhile, my cock was hard as a steel rod and aching for her. I wanted her, badly, but this was just for her tonight. Although I never was one to shy away from a hot encounter where everyone got what they wanted, I was somehow holding back with Gemma. Like I knew it would be all the better for me if I waited.
I finally broke free from her delectable mouth, murmuring, “You taste so fucking good.”
She replied with something between a moan and a whimper as I squeezed a nipple between my thumb and forefinger just before I undid the clasp between her breasts. Straightening, I let my eyes dip down. Her breasts tumbled loose, plump and round, with her nipples deep pink, both taut peaks practically begging for my mouth.
Whether they were begging or not, I needed to taste them and dipped my head, catching one nipple with my lips. I gave it a slow swirl with my tongue and a light suck before drawing back. I was in danger of coming in my jeans like an untried boy without her even touching me when she let out a ragged cry and gasped my name. I couldn’t resist and had to give the same attention to her other breast. I didn’t want any part of her body to feel left out.
Gemma reached between us, her palm boldly stroking over my cock. Fuck me. This girl was going to push me to the limits of my discipline. Lifting my head, I thumbed her nipple, savoring the way she arched into my touch.
When she stroked over me again, I murmured, “Easy there.”
Her lashes lifted, and her dark, hazy gaze struck me like a whip, spurring my need harder and faster.
“I need—” she began just as I slid my hand over her belly to cup her mound.
Even through the denim, I could feel her heat. “Tell me what you need, sugar.”
“Something,” she gasped, her tone almost annoyed.
I quickly unbuttoned her jeans and slid her zipper down, that subtle sound spinning into all the other sensations roaming through my body. There was just enough room for me to get my hand in her jeans and discover her panties were wet with her arousal.
I wasn’t all about finesse, not tonight. I felt as if I were a rock tumbling down the hill in an avalanche, bouncing wildly as I sought the only thing I wanted. Well, not the only thing, but the sole thing I was going to let myself have tonight—her pleasure.
Her hips bucked restlessly into my touch. Although the space was tight, I pushed her panties to the side, delving my fingers in her folds. They were slick with her need. Leaning forward, I caught her lips in mine again, right as she let out a little whimper that I caught in our kiss as I sank one finger and then another, knuckle deep, into her snug core.