His eyes came back to hers, their usual bright blue had gone the color of midnight, and when he slid his hand over her breast she called his name.
“No bra,” he said huskily as his fingers explored the shape of her over the thin fabric of her tank top.
“No,” she said helplessly as his fingers plucked her nipple into aching response.
“I like,” he said. She moaned when his hand left her, only to purr in satisfaction when his hand snaked under her shirt, touching bare skin before his hand claimed her breast once more.
The man knew his way around. He refused to hurry even as he teased her to an almost breathless state, alternating between using the palm of his hand to grind against her before trailing torturous fingers along the undersides of her breast. He switched to the other, then did it all over again.
And when she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, he took her to the next level, his lips closing around a nipple, his tongue lapping gently at the tight peak until she was helplessly whimpering his name, unsure of what she was even asking for.
But Luc knew. His free hand had been roaming careless circles along her bare stomach, but they inched downward now, his palm finding her over the top of her pants, the heel of his hand grinding against her as she bucked, wanting more.
Always more.
She wanted everything from him.
Then his hand was gone, his fingers back to tracing lazy patterns over her belly.
“Luc.”
“Sims,” he said, his tongue wickedly stabbing at her nipple.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“You know what.”
He glanced up at her. “Ask for it.”
She wanted to be stubborn. She wanted to be in control. But when he pulled her nipple into his mouth once more and suckled, hard, she gave up.
“Touch me.”
“Here?”
His hand slid up to her breast.
It was good. But not enough. She squirmed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and moving his hand downward.
“Ah, here,” he said, his fingers dipping just slightly under the waistband, touching the edge of her thong but not going any farther.
She moaned a little laugh as his thumb brushed her just lightly over the fabric of her thong. “I’m very close to hating you right now, Moretti.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice husky as he lifted himself just enough to watch his hand as it teased between her legs. “So I should stop this?”
“Don’t you dare.” She gasped as a finger slipped under the elastic.
“You’re a liar, Sims,” he said on a groan as he found her silky wetness. “You don’t hate me at all.”
Her thighs fell open on a gasp. It was almost painfully erotic, the sight of his hand moving beneath the tight fabric of her yoga pants as he fingered her.
Luc slid a finger deep inside her and she arched her back, even as he pulled out and circled her clit in idle, circular motions.
She would be embarrassed about how fast she approached the brink, but she was too busy reveling in the sensations of his teasing fingers, his flicking tongue on her nipple.
Luc pulled away seconds before she went crashing into blissful oblivion, and she all but shrieked in outrage. “You—”
His mouth crushed onto hers, and she felt his smile.
“I like you like this, Sims.”
“What, half-naked?” she muttered even as she hungrily returned his kiss.
He pulled back, glanced down at her. “You’re not even close to half-naked.” His hands went for the hem of her tank bunched around her ribs. “We should fix that.”
Ava let him tug her up, pulling the shirt over her head, and his eyes turned even more smoldering as they roamed over her.
“Uh uh,” she said when he was about to push her back down. Her hands found his T-shirt, inching it upward. He quirked an eyebrow at her before reaching behind his head to grab a fistful of fabric and yank the shirt up and off in that effortless way that guys could.
Okay. Wow.