“So beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin.
My heart skitters, euphoria rushing through me at the realization that this is really happening with Brady.
That he’s here. Under me. Touching me. Wanting me.
It’s almost too much to bear.
I grind on him, my hips moving on their own, and I’m so wet I’m sure he can feel me through my thin pajama bottoms. I want him so badly my entire body pulses.
In one swift motion, I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me. He pauses, just a second, just enough for me to reach out and yank him closer. Because I’m desperate to have him, and tonight, I don’t want to let anything get in the way of what I want.
Sinvergüenza. Yes. That’s me. Shameless.
His muscular thighs nestle between mine. I have to spread my legs wide to make room for his large frame. I thread my fingers through his thick, black hair, still damp from his shower, as his whole body aligns with mine.
Moaning into his mouth, I revel in how good he feels. All muscle, thick and hard against my sensitive skin.
But I realize what would feel even better.
I tug his shirt. “Off.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Just leans back and reaches behind his head with one hand to pull it off.
My hands find his hard pecs, and his eyes hood as I slide back and forth over his smooth skin. He has a smattering of dark hair on his chest but is otherwise pretty bare. And then there’s that treasure trail that promises pleasures yet to come.
Leaning up, I press a kiss to his shoulder. It’s my turn to taste. Then I bite him and revel in the hiss that escapes his lips before I lick the offended skin and do it again.
He must like this because he groans and thrusts harder against me, his hands tightening on my breasts in a way that makes me breathless. But the next time I nip him, he grabs my wrists and pins them with one big hand above my head before he dips down for a kiss.
Our tongues tangle as I struggle against him so I can get closer. So I can grab and touch and soothe and feel.
Being held down by his muscular body heats me in a way I’ve never experienced before. Because I’m at his mercy. And I like it.
His hold on my wrists is tight, like I’m his little plaything. His possession. All I can do is moan against his mouth and hope he doesn’t stop.
Then he angles his mouth over mine to kiss me more deeply while his erection grinds against me. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. I can almost hear our rhythm as we move to the steady beat of my heart.
And when I think it can’t get better, when I can’t get any more turned on, he releases my wrists and slides down my body.
Down my neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Over my breasts with sucks and licks and bites. Over my stomach, rasping against my sensitive skin with his five o’clock shadow. All the while playing to that steady beat between my legs.
His fingers hook into my pajama bottoms, and then they’re off, leaving me in my black lace underwear. Slowly, he pulls down the fabric until nothing stands in his way.
He stares, his eyes molten. I let him stare and see how wet I am for him. I watch how his green eyes darken until all I’m left with is his black hunger that threatens to drown me.
Everything in me trembles as I spread my legs a little more.
An invitation.
He sucks in a breath, but rather than go to the source of my ache, he drags a calloused finger between my thighs and rubs in the crease of my leg. First one side, then the other.
I arch my back, needing him to touch me there. He’s close, so close, but I know he’s toying with me.
He settles between my legs, his hands spreading my thighs wide.
But again, he teases and rubs along the crease of my legs, pushing my swollen lips together.
“Brady,” I gasp. “Please.”
“Please, what, Katherine?”
Oh, Jesus. Now he chooses to use my full name. Why that’s so hot right now, I have no clue. But his voice, thick and raspy, sends chills down my back. And the way he says it. Like I'm sexy and seductive.
“Touch me,” I beg.
“I am.”
Then he does it again, pushes my lips together, sliding me against myself, making the ache worse, not better.
His hot breath on my tender skin sends another shiver through me, but when his lips whisper over my clit, just barely grazing me, a whimper escapes me.
I’m writhing, gasping, and just when I think I might die, his thumbs spread me apart—wide—and he slowly swipes his hot tongue against me.
“Holy shit.” Wow. Something else unintelligible falls from my lips.
I’m panting and writhing when he does it again. And again. Soft, so soft, I have half a mind to yank his hair and make him do it harder. But then he flattens his tongue for a long, steady lick, and I arch off the couch.
“God, yes. More.”
My eyes are rolling back in my head, my hands grasping at the fabric of the couch as Brady pins me down and works me over.