A Hint of Scandal - Page 51

CHAPTER TWELVE

HIS HAND SNAKED around her nape, into her hair and pulled her close, while the other cupped her cheek. “You’re going to make this as hard as possible, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

His hands traveled up her arms, his fingers moving over her skin in mesmerizing circles, as if he couldn’t help it after holding back for so long. She trembled all over when his hands reached her shoulders, and pressed slightly. The thin material of her tee was no barrier to the heat gliding from his touch to her skin. His long fingers moved to her neck, tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

She moved her hands to his chest, encountering hard muscle that sent jolts of awareness through her fingers. His heart rumbled under her hands.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, sliding his hot mouth over her jaw, to the pulse at her neck. She shivered as he licked her skin. He pulled back and stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze never wavering from her.

He tugged his tie loose, and yanked it away. “Take off that T-shirt.”

She froze at the raw desire in his tone, his hoarse command setting her skin ablaze with need. There was a razor-edged calm to his movements, a dark shadow in his gaze, as if he didn’t give a damn anymore, as if, now that they were giving into it, there was no need even for the facade of control, for the veil of restraint.

It terrified her and aroused her at the same time.

His fingers worked feverishly on the buttons of his shirt. He chucked it off, his lean, tightly muscled chest stealing the remaining air from her lungs. She watched him, her mouth dry, unable to move, unable to speak, the taut rippling of his chest muscles as his hands moved to his trousers, and stilled as his gaze took in her frozen stance. “You have five seconds to change your mind, Liv.”

Her nipples hardened, the soft cotton of her tee chafing against them. She shook her head, enjoying the sight of him too much to even muster a response. His gaze never moved from her, as he rid himself of his trousers and boxer shorts.

She didn’t turn away, she didn’t even blink, she couldn’t if her life depended on it. Broad shoulders narrowed down to a lean waist and leaner hips. A smattering of dark hair disappeared into a line down his washboard stomach. Even the muscles at his groin were well formed, sending a blaze of heat over her.

She licked her lips, and his erection, thick and jutting up, twitched at the innocent movement. Her breaths came hard and fast, dampness pooled at her core. She needed to touch him. She extended a shaky hand toward him as he reached the bed. Her fingers grazed the velvety hardness of his shaft but he stopped her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“No.”

With that word, he grabbed her hands and hitched them over her head. And then he climbed into the bed, looming over her like a dark shadow, pressing her into the bed. Her bed creaked under his weight. The meager light from the overhead bulb threw the hard planes of his face into sharp relief.

She wanted to protest, wanted to say something as he pushed her back. But then he slid his huge body, a hard wall of heat, over hers, until he covered every inch of her, just as he’d said. Their mingled moans rent the air. Her breasts were crushed against the solid wall of his chest, his erection skimmed her belly and his rock-hard thighs cradled her groin. The most delicious feeling crept into her already sluggish blood.

He raised his head and met her gaze, something flickering in it. She felt a curious urge to shy her gaze away from him, never having mastered the art of hiding her feelings. She felt naked, devoid of armor, a curious vulnerability she had never experienced before. His free hand moved, palm downward, drawing a path upward over the thin material of her tee, touching, not touching, throwing her headlong into a spiral of need.

She panted, fighting for breath as he buried his face at the base of her neck and inhaled deeply. Her tummy rolled on itself as he licked the spot, her fingers threading around his biceps. She wanted to pull him to her, she wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch her properly—all the achy, needy places crying for his attention, yet she couldn’t get her arms to understand her intent.

She felt his mouth curve against her skin, his hot openmouthed kiss singeing her flesh. She shivered all over. He shifted his weight a little to the side. “Of all the times to be scared, now, Liv?”

She moaned as he tugged her tee off one shoulder and sank his teeth into her flesh. She inched her fingers over his nape, into his hair and tugged his face up. The tendons in his neck stood to attention, the angles of his cheekbones jutting out. “I’m fine.”

Tags: Tara Pammi Billionaire Romance
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