Awaken: A Spiral of Bliss Novel (Book Three)

“You’d better expect me right now.” His voice is edged with roughness, like a torn piece of paper.

 

He steps toward me, his muscles steeling. I can’t move, can only stand there staring at him as he approaches me with a determination that has my whole body zinging with eagerness. His gaze pins me to the spot. Urgency builds in me like steam, and I’m aching to let my own gaze slide down the sculpted muscles of his torso to the front of his towel…

 

But I don’t—can’t—look away from those gold-flecked eyes that have always watched me with heat, love, tenderness. I can’t read them now, can’t see anything beyond the fierce, contained resolve that vibrates from every fiber of his being. A combination of anticipation and excitement twirls through me.

 

Dean stops inches from me. Heat emanates from his damp skin. The delicious smells of soap and him sink into my blood, warming me from the inside out. A drop of water slides from his hair over his smooth shoulder, and I’m seized with the urge to follow the path with my tongue, to lick the strong column of his throat…

 

He plants both hands on the wall behind me, caging me between his arms. He presses closer, pushing me to retreat until my back hits the wall. And then I’m surrounded by him, engulfed by the heat of his body, his mouthwatering scent, the desire coursing through both of us.

 

I lift a hand to touch his face, running my fingers over the whiskered planes of his jaw, over his lips, down to the hollow of his throat. My heart races. His gaze never leaves mine.

 

He moves even closer and lowers his head. I part my lips to draw in a breath, desperate for a strong, possessive kiss that will overwhelm me with lust and eradicate any barriers still lingering between us.

 

He touches his lips to mine. Lightly, almost not there at all, but I feel it, feel him, and I curl my fingers into my palms against the growing ache of need. The contrast between the hard urgency of Dean’s body and the restraint of his kiss is wildly exciting. The pulsing between my legs expands into a heavy throb.

 

Dean doesn’t take his hands from the wall behind me as he lifts his head to look at me again. He motions with his head to my clothes.

 

“Take them off.”

 

An intense surge of desire rockets through me. My hands shake. I unfasten my jeans and push them over my hips. Again, dammit, I’m not wearing my sexy lingerie. At least my legs are shaved this time, but I’d planned to meet him all pretty and perfumed-up, clad in my polka-dot panties and lace-edged bra…

 

I push my shoes off and wiggle quickly out of my jeans, kicking them aside. Dean nods at my T-shirt.

 

“And that.”

 

I grasp the hem and yank the ragged shirt over my head. My nipples push against the stretched fabric of my bra. I unhook the front clasp and toss the bra on top of my discarded clothes.

 

Cooler air sensitizes my nipples, which ache with the need to be touched. My blood pounds. I want Dean to cup my breasts in his big hands and twist my nipples while kissing me so hard and deep I forget my own name.

 

His eyes burn with lust. He pushes his knee between my legs. My heart jolts with arousal. Beneath the towel, his thick erection presses against my belly. I swallow and lean my head back against the wall. Dean’s lips brush mine, his tongue probing into my mouth, his chest rubbing against my taut nipples. Everything inside me softens and yields to him.

 

But his restraint is stretching my urgency to the breaking point. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. The core of my body is an unending pulse. I let my eyes close, breathe in the scent of him, and absorb the feeling of utter safety within the confines of his strong arms.

 

He moves his lips across my cheek, his breath hot. I’m trembling with need, and if I don’t have something to hold on to, I’ll slide to the floor. I run my hands over his arms to his shoulders. His muscles flex beneath my palms, and I’m seized by the urge to stroke down to his chest where I can trace all the slopes and planes of his sculpted torso…

 

“Dean, kiss me,” I plead, when he runs his tongue slowly across my lower lip.

 

“Kiss you?” he whispers, his voice guttural with restraint. “Or fuck you?”

 

A wave of heat washes over me. “Both. Oh, please… both.”

 

He doesn’t. He trails his lips over my cheek again, down the side of my neck, his stubble scraping my skin. Tingles fall through me. I tighten my hands on his shoulders, a glow spreading in me like the rays of the sun.

 

He lifts his head again, his gaze tracking down to my bare breasts, my hard nipples. He shifts his hips, rubbing his cock against me. The friction of the towel combined with that hot bulge beneath it… a gasp catches in my throat. Then he grabs the knot of the towel and pulls it off, his erection springing up between us.

 

I melt, my knees weakening at the sight of his thick shaft. I can’t stop myself from closing my hand around his cock and tracing the pulsing veins with my fingers. He mutters something under his breath, pushing his hips forward.

 

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