“Spread your legs. They want to see you.” He could role-play. He’d never actually done it before, but it was kind of fun to pretend. “They want to look at this pretty pussy and dream that they get to touch it. They don’t. I’m the only one. Spread your legs wide so they get a good view of just how fucking creamy and wet you are.”
It was true. He was going to lose his damn mind over her scent and the silky feel of her skin. He stared right at it and blessed the day he walked into Sanctum. Sex had been something to do under the covers, with the lights out and as unoffensively as possible before he’d gotten into the lifestyle. Some people could have active, fully satisfying sex lives without play, but he’d found he wasn’t one of them. He needed this, and he loved the freedom of not hiding what he wanted to do. He wanted to stare at her pussy, to study it. So that was what he was going to do.
“So pretty.” He slid a finger, parting her labia. “Do you always shave? Your skin is so damn soft. Like silk.”
“I did it today. I took a shower before I decided to go down and look for Avery. I knew if I went downstairs you wouldn’t let me wear panties, and I didn’t want to look like Sasquatch if someone caught sight of my cootch,” she said on a shaky laugh. “It was pretty much a seventies disco down there.”
It didn’t look like one now. She’d done an incredible job. She was bare and smooth and ripe. Pearly fluid coated her labia. Arousal pulsed from inside her. He slid his fingers all around, carefully exploring that soft, feminine part of her. He breathed in the scent of her.
She was ready. He could shove his cock inside right then and there would be no barrier. He could take her and she would welcome him, but he needed more. He had no idea how much time they had. There was a conference in the morning, and the outcome could be the two of them released back into their lives. She would go one way and he the other. He wasn’t going to have his only memory of her being a quickie.
Long and slow. Thoughtful sex. That was what he owed her. He also owed her that kissing he’d promised. He leaned over and let his mouth hover above hers, suspended in the potential. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to kiss you like this? There’s no one outside the door. There’s no one who’s going to interrupt us. I can just kiss you for as long as I want.”
“Months,” she whispered back, her hand going up to his hair. She smoothed her fingers over it. Her eyes were steady on his. “I don’t count your office as our first kiss. You were being an asshole. So make this one count. I’ve waited months. Months and months of waiting.”
He was glad she was willing to forgive him for that debacle in his office, but she was wrong about that timing. “Forever. I’ve waited forever.”
He let his lips touch hers and heat spiked through his system like a live wire sparking. He molded his mouth to hers, tasting her for the first time. She filled his senses, became the center of everything in that moment. She was the sun, warming him, making him feel alive and male and so good that he wondered why he’d waited.
Her fingers sank into his hair and he knew. He’d waited on this Phoebe. He’d waited because the real woman was so much more than the fa?ade. This woman had all the passion, all the affection he’d sensed in the construct. She’d hidden behind a mask, but there was no hiding now.
When her mouth flowered open and her tongue glided against his, he nearly lost it. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, nestling their bodies together. His tongue surged inside, a marauder who wanted to take everything she had to give and then demand more because she was it for him.
He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted this one. How could he even have fooled himself for a second that he would be satisfied with a night? He wanted a lifetime with her. She was the prize he got for surviving. All the horrible shit he’d been through fell away the minute she walked in a room.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered against his lips. “I want to see you.”
It would kill him, but he was determined to give her what she wanted.
He forced himself to stand up. He’d left his vest downstairs and he would very likely get an unholy lecture on cleaning up his shit from Ian, but he’d been too eager to be alone with her. He was still wearing his pants and boots. As quickly as he could, he toed out of his boots and worked the laces on his leathers. Phoebe sat up, pushing back her hair. Even though she was naked, she looked oddly innocent to him, sitting there and staring at him like a child about to receive a gift she hadn’t thought she would get.
“I think you’re beautiful, too.”
He shoved his pants off, kicking them to the side. “I’ve got a lot of scars.”
She ran her hands over the place where the IED had nearly opened his gut. The scar was jagged because he’d been stitched up by someone who’d only wanted him alive in order to torture him. They hadn’t thought a lot about how pretty his abs would look.