He tasted of bourbon and cannoli, need and satisfaction—and she couldn’t get enough as she reached back for his shirt and yanked it out of his pants, desperate to feel him and not the cotton covering his skin. He broke the kiss with a groan when she slid her hands under his shirt.
“I need to see you,” he said, reaching behind her for the light switch.
“No.” That couldn’t happen. She didn’t want to break the moment with brightly lit reality. She grabbed his arm before he could reach the switch and lowered it so his palm was on her leg right at the spot where her dress stopped. Excitement sizzled across her skin, and desire swirled through her, hot and demanding. She wanted this—wanted him—so bad. Watching his face in the soft light spilling into the kitchen from the foyer, she slowly slid his hand higher, under her dress and to the inside of her thigh. “You need to feel me.”
“You have no clue just how bad,” he said, gliding his fingers up her inner thigh. “Open your legs for me.”
“Like this?” She widened her stance so her feet were shoulder-width apart.
“Not quite.” In a flash, his hand was gone and she wanted to scream her frustration, but then he had his hands on her waist. “Hold on.”
She did, her hands on his shoulders as he picked her up and whirled her around before sitting her down on the counter, so close to the edge that she had to hold onto him to keep her balance. Then his hands were on her thighs again, pushing her pink dress higher and higher up her legs. An impatient man would have just shoved it up and out of the way, but not Ford. He inched the hem up slowly, his gaze locked in on each millimeter of skin as it appeared. He was going to make her nuts. All she wanted was for him to just touch her already, and he was ogling the freckle above her kneecap.
“You’re killing me,” she groaned, her grip on his shoulders tightening as he did this circle thing with the pad of his thumb over that freckle that made her legs shake.
“You don’t like this?” He nudged the fabric up a little higher. “It sure seems like you do.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t, it was that she wasn’t used to it. With most guys, it was lights off, clothes shoved aside, and then it was prime time, not all of this teasing slowness that was making her core ache and her nipples harden to stiff points without even being touched. Like it? What Ford was doing was fucking addictive. “I guess I’m used to a fast rush.”
That made him stop completely. His gaze rose from her exposed legs to her face. The lust in his eyes was so intense she had to look away.
He cupped her chin and angled her face upward so she had no choice but to look at him. If she thought he’d been intense before, it was nothing compared to now. “I’m not other guys.”
She shook her head no in agreement, the ability to actually form words having left her.
“I need you to say it.” He ground out the words. “Say my name.”
“Ford.” It came out like a breathy plea, which it was, because she was about to combust here.
“That’s right, and I’m gonna make you come so hard, Gina Luca, that you’re going to remember my name when you’re a hundred years old and can barely remember your own.” He dropped his hand back down to her legs and spread them wide, the move dragging the bottom of her dress up to the top of her thighs. “Now you gotta lift that sweet ass of yours up for me.”
The idea to question him didn’t even occur to her. All she knew was that her entire body tingled with anticipation and the ache between her legs got stronger each time he touched her. She dropped her hands from his shoulders to the counter behind her, lifted her butt off the counter, and balanced her weight on her palms as he glided his hands under her dress—there was just something thrillingly dirty about seeing his big hands disappear under what was now her very small skirt.
Her heart was racing as his hands moved higher to her hips and he hooked two fingers around the waistband of her panties and yanked them down. She nearly closed her eyes at the feel of the cool air against her slick folds, but she was so glad she didn’t, because then she would have missed Ford’s nearly comical expression of exasperation when he pulled her black lace panties down her legs.
He let out an agonized groan and shook his head as he balled the lace up in his hand. “These damn things have been tormenting me.”
Okay, that made no sense. “My panties?” she asked as she lowered her weight back to the counter, her dress spread out beneath her.
He looked down at her underwear in his hand as if they were the answer to a question that had driven him to the edge of a cliff. “The idea of you wearing this scrap of lace has been one of the things keeping me at night, and now I finally got to take them off after dreaming up a scenario for what would happen next.”
Oh my. Yes. She wasn’t sure at first, but now she really liked where this was going. “What was your idea for after you took them off?”
“You think I only had one?” He gave her that cocky half smile of his that always left her out of breath. “Pull up the front of your dress.”
There wasn’t much to pull up because as it was it only barely covered her, but she did. “Is this what you wanted? Or was it this?” She spread her legs wider.
His answering groan did naughty, naughty things to her.
“Yes, to all of it.”
…
One imagined outcome? Ford had millions, but with the real woman in front of him so wet he could feel her desire on the fabric still balled up in his hand, there was only one thing he wanted to do first. Hands on her ass, he lifted her up higher as he pulled her right to the edge of the counter. Fuck, the look in her eyes right now was almost enough to make him nut in his jeans. He had to take a step back because he wasn’t about to rush through this.
“Your dress,” he said, trailing his fingers across her supple skin to her thighs, so very close to where he wanted desperately to be, but not touching her there. “Unbutton it.”
Her tongue wet her bottom lip as her fingers went to the teeny-tiny buttons that went up the middle of her dress. For each one she freed, he dragged his fingers a little bit up her thigh.
“That’s it,” he said. “I want to see all of you.”
What felt like millions of minutes of exquisite torture later, but was probably only twenty seconds, her pink dress was unbuttoned. What a sight. The front of the dress was pushed up to her waist, showing her glistening folds between her widespread legs, and her dress hung open and had fallen off one shoulder, exposing one tit with its hard nipple pressing against the sheer black lace of her bra. It was a sight he’d never forget, but what made it truly memorable was the look on Gina’s face. Her full lips were wet and parted slightly, her cheeks were flushed with desire, and her eyes as she watched him watch her promised there was so much more to come.
He’d never seen someone so beautiful in his entire life.
“You aren’t going back on your word, are you?” she asked, bringing one hand up to her exposed boob and pushing the cup of her bra down. “Promises were made.” She rolled her nipple between her thumb and finger, pinching and tugging it taut. “Something about a mind-blowing orgasm that would stay with me for the rest of my life.” She let go of her nipple and slid her hand down over her stomach to the tight, dark curls at the apex of her thighs. “Or do I need to take care of that myself?”
Lust blasted through him like a rocket explosion. Watching her touch herself was more than he could take. He was between her legs on the next breath, spreading her folds with his fingers as he took his first taste. She moaned and moved her hips as he worked her with his tongue, teasing and playing with her hard clit and her soft folds. Up and down, circle left, circle right, he took his time, enjoying her every reaction, the way her body tightened when he did something she liked and how she cried out when he did something she loved. She was fucking magnificent, and he couldn’t get enough, so he kept going, nice and slow, driving her to the edge and leaving her teetering there in horrible ecstasy.