The Wildcard

Chapter Fifteen

I couldn’t tear my eyes from his.

He’d laid me out amongst the soft cotton as though I was a child, stroking the hair away from my face reverently. I was so stunned by his softness that I could only lie there, with my breath trapped in my lungs, and my gaze glued to his.

He looked like a man starved.

Nobody has ever looked at me like that before – like they actually needed me – wanted me – just for the next breath in their body. He looked at me like I was totally vital. And it was that one look that broke everything inside me, whether he meant it or not, in that very second, it was everything I needed.

“I can’t explain what you do to me,” he said softly, as he drew a single fingertip around the shape of my jaw, “I haven’t got a clue what it is, but I just ... feel like I could drown in you. It’s addictive.”

I kissed him. I didn’t need words, and promises, I needed him. So I dragged his mouth down to mine, desperately, showing him. I poured everything into that kiss – literally using my own body to show him that I was pushing my fears aside – that I was here – wholeheartedly, I guess, for the first time, and I knew he felt it with the trembling groan that fell from his throat when my tongue forced its way between his lips. Within moments, he’d taken control, cupping my jaw as his lips became ferociously possessive against mine, coaxing and demanding more of the same response from me.

I could feel my body dampening and darkening under the pressure – my sex needy and gripping already from the pure joy of that one single kiss – and I was moaning in ecstasy against his mouth.

It was almost a shock when I found my bare back against the soft cotton, not really having been aware of his hands stripping the clothes from my heated skin, because I was almost dizzy with need at the pure and unfettered skill of his kisses, my stomach already coiling with frustration before he’d even touched me. When my fingers reached for the clasp of his trousers though, my hands were suddenly caught in his much larger grasp, and pulled away from the barrier between us.

“No way, princess,” his voice gruff and dangerous as he took a step back from the bed, “This time’s all for you.”

His eyes were dark with the promise of complete and utter euphoria as they swept over me, his long fingers flicking the clasp expertly, and he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, exposing the ropes of bronzed muscle over his chest, the ripped abdomen trailing down to the waistband of his Calvin Klein’s, now deliciously bared to my greedy eyes as they flew over him.

My tongue darted out across my lips – my mouth bone dry with anticipation – this perfect specimen of masculinity was all mine – at least for the moment.

“Hold the pillow, princess,” it sounded like such an odd request, spoken with such a dark and dirty undertone, I could only obey, but he must’ve known I didn’t understand why, “I’ve been chasing your sexy little ass around for weeks now, breaking every rule in the fucking book. My hands were tied though, princess.”

He was holding my eyes with his still, although mine did stray on occasion, especially when his fingers began to toy with the waistband of his tight black briefs, it was all I could do not to drool.