Sweet Temptation

|4| 𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆

Thirteen—no, thirty—years folded and collapsed in time, distilling to this moment alone. She slid her hands to his back, gripped his shirt, arched up against him. Her breasts brushed the hard wall of his chest, stimulating her tight nipples. She squeezed her thighs together. God, already she was wet and starting to ache.

He broke the kiss and levered himself over her, one hand on the floor beside her head. His gaze probed hers as if he were already stripping her naked. She parted her legs, letting him fit his body against hers.

Oh. He was hard, an impressive bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. Emboldened, she ran her hand over his chest, rubbing her fingers across his hard abs, then down to his erection. A groan rumbled through him, but the instant she closed her hand around him, he grabbed her wrist.

Julia froze. “What’s wrong?”

He cursed under his breath, his mouth tightening with self-restraint. “If you want me to stop, I—”

She almost laughed, caught in a wave of dizzy excitement. She couldn’t believe how light she suddenly felt, as if all the frustrations of the past week had lifted from her heart and flown away like birds.

“Warren,” she breathed. “What I want is for you to finish what you started.”

His mouth curved with a smile, his brown gaze softening.

“What I want…” he pressed his hand to the side of her neck, lowering his mouth to hers again, “…is you.”

He slid his hands over her breasts, his breath increasing. He stroked lower, across her midriff and between her legs. He cupped his hand over her, easing one long finger right into her cleft. Julia gasped. Lust exploded through her. She’d almost forgotten what a man’s touch felt like on the most intimate parts of her body—and he was only touching her on the outside of her clothes.

She ran her trembling fingers over the length of his erection where it rested against his thigh. A shiver of trepidation rattled through her because… heavens, the man was big. The thick ridge of his cock pulsed heat clear through his trousers, sending a responding throb right to her core. His breath skimmed over her like a hot breeze. But instead of hauling her close again, he put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him.

Her heart hammered at the gleam in his brown eyes—dark, lustful, possessive. Electric currents, burning stars, the center of a candle flame. She’d known him longer than she’d known anyone, harbored everything from a secret crush to outright desire for him. There was no one she trusted more.

She tugged his shoulders and pressed her lips to his again. He pushed his hands under the hem of her shirt, his fingers gliding over her bare skin. Shivers rained down her spine. Up, up… his hands closed over her breasts, plucking at her taut nipples.

Julia shifted, her breath coming faster, all rational thought spilling away. Warren lowered her back onto the floor, his weight pressing her into the carpet, his cock throbbing against her thigh. She wound her arms around his shoulders as he lowered his head to kiss her neck, her throat, trailing his lips back to her mouth.

“Wait.” Julia eased away from him slightly to shed her T-shirt. A rush of purely female satisfaction filled her when he groaned at the sight of her lingerie-clad breasts.

“If you only knew how often I’ve imagined you naked,” he muttered, undoing the bra clasp with an expert flick of his fingers. Her breasts popped out, nipples sticking straight up.

“Ah fuck…” He bent to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.

Sparks flamed in her blood. Julia gasped, arching upward and tightening her fingers into his shirt. A hint of disbelief rose in her at the realization that Warren was flicking his tongue over her nipple and sucking the tight little bud, but everything else about him—his presence, his scent, his body—was achingly, unbearably familiar.