Revved

I just need him to keep touching me, kissing me. I don’t ever want him to stop. I’ve never been this needy…this desperate for a man before.

 

Kissing him like I’m starved for him, I fumble to unbutton his dinner jacket. Popping the last one open, I slide my hands up his hard chest, pushing the jacket off his shoulders. His hands leave me for what feels like the longest second as he frees his arms from its confines, throwing his jacket to the floor. Then, his hands are back on me. The same hand is back inside my dress, but this time, his hand is on my arse, grabbing and kneading. His other hand is fisting my hair while he presses teasing hot kisses down my neck. And when I feel the erotic flick of his hot tongue against my skin, I almost come undone.

 

“No matter how sexy you look in it, the dress needs to go,” he says gruffly.

 

I expect him to undress me here, but he doesn’t. He takes me by the hand and leads me through the darkened suite, into the bedroom.

 

Leaving me by the end of the bed, he turns the lamp on, illuminating us.

 

Turning back to me, he smiles. It makes my stomach flip. He just looks so beautiful. My fingers are itching to be back on him. Well, all of me is itching to be back on him actually.

 

But he isn’t moving. He’s just standing there, staring at me.

 

Does he want me to go to him?

 

“What?” I whisper, my chest suddenly feeling tight. I can’t ever remember anyone looking at me like this before. Like I’m the ultimate prize.

 

“Nothing.” He blinks slowly, shaking his head. “You’re just…so fucking beautiful.”

 

Smooth talker. “Oh, you’re good.” I smirk.

 

He grins, tilting his head to the side. “And I’m about to get a whole lot better.”

 

With promise and mischief sparking in those blues of his, he advances toward me, making my body tremble with need.

 

“Turn around.” The quiet command in his voice has me practically melting at his feet.

 

Brushing my hair aside, he kisses my shoulder—his teeth grazing, making me squirm—as his hands smooth down my sides. Gripping me at the waist, he presses his erection against my bum. Leaning back, I rest my head on his shoulder as his hands slide up my stomach, coming up to cup my breasts through my dress.

 

My nipples are embarrassingly hard, and I groan when his thumbs press against them through the fabric.

 

“I need to see you.” Urgent words brush my ear, causing me to shiver.

 

Skilled fingers find the zipper on my dress. He slides it down, the sound loudly erotic in the silence of the bedroom.

 

When he reaches the bottom, his hands come back up, and he slips his fingers under the straps of my dress and pushes them off my shoulders.

 

My breathing is so loud that it must sound like I have a microphone taped to my lips.

 

The dress slips down my body, Carrick’s hands following its descent. When the fabric is pooling at my feet, he whispers, “Andressa…”

 

I look back over my shoulder at him, biting my lip. The look in his eyes is nearly enough to bring me to my knees.

 

Slowly, I turn to him. I watch his eyes widen as they travel down the length of me.

 

“Fuck…” he breathes hoarsely, his eyes meeting mine.

 

I thought his look was intense before, but it had nothing on this. The air is knocked from my lungs.

 

“Red is now officially my new favorite color.” Reaching out, his fingertip traces the edge of my bra. “I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet. God, Andressa, I have never seen anything like you before in my life.”

 

His words leave a mark on my insides.

 

To pull us back to where we are, I lean in and press a hot kiss to his lips. “Well, you’d better make the most of me then.”

 

Something I can’t discern flashes through his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

 

His fingers slide up into my hair. “Oh, I plan on doing a lot to you.”

 

“Likewise. Now, strip. It’s my turn to see you.”

 

A knowing grin brings up his lips. He takes a step back from me, giving me ample view. He removes his bow tie and his fingers go to the buttons on his shirt as he toes his shoes off.

 

I move to step out of my heels when his gruff voice says, “Keep the heels on.”

 

A definite throb starts between my legs.

 

Carrick pulls off his shirt with the confidence that only a man with a face like his can, and mother of God…I’ve hit the jackpot.

 

Never in my life have I seen a man who has a body like his.

 

Trousers hang low on his slim hips. My eyes devour the inches upon inches of smooth golden skin covering one, two, three, four, five…yep, a rippling six-pack, and sweet mother of Jesus, thank you! He has the V! I feel like I should take a photo just so I can look at it later when I’m alone.

 

He starts to unzip his trousers, cockiness still in his stance. But then, if I looked like him, I’d be the cockiest bastard on the planet.

 

The sound of his zipper lowering is agonizingly slow. I bite my lip with anticipation.

 

He drops his trousers.

 

And my mouth falls open.

 

Holy…cock.

 

It’s big and thick and straining upward like a prayer. I feel like I should get down on my knees and beg for mercy.

 

“Like what you see?”

 

Biting my lip again, I lift my gaze. He’s wearing the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen in my life. And the throbbing between my thighs intensifies to epic proportions.

 

I tilt my head to the side. “Does it work as good as it looks?”

 

The grin reaches his eyes, kicking up his brow. “Better.”

 

The next thing I know, I’m in his arms, and he’s kissing me deep and hard, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands grab my behind, and he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist.

 

I don’t feel as tall as I am when I’m with Carrick. He’s so male, so fucking confident in everything he does, that he makes me feel feminine.

 

But scariest of all is how vulnerable he makes me feel.

 

Somehow, we end up on the bed with me on my back and Carrick firmly situated between my legs.

 

Our kiss becomes harder, bordering aggressive. I put that down to the sexual tension that’s been building between us for weeks.

 

His hand pulls the cup of my bra down, his thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple. I gasp, my hips jerking against him with need.

 

Seeming to enjoy my reaction, he breaks from our kiss, leaving me breathless, as he kisses his way down to the breast he just exposed.

 

When his lips close around my nipple, I all but orgasm.

 

“You like that?” he asks hoarse.

 

My response comes out somewhere between a moan and a whimper.

 

Then, he’s getting to his feet.

 

I blink up at him standing there in all his godlike glory.

 

His hand wraps around my ankle, lifting my leg. Fingers sliding along my skin, he slips my shoe off and drops it to the floor. He presses a soft kiss to my instep, and my belly quivers. He removes my other shoe, tossing it over his shoulder.

 

Leaning over me, he hooks his fingers into my knickers and stares deep into my eyes. “Are you ready for me, Andressa?”

 

“Yes,” falls from my lips in a breathy whisper.

 

As he pulls my knickers down, I lift my hips to give him purchase.

 

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