“Six years,” she whispered. “I waited…”
He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t hear it. The words she was about to whisper would be words she would regret the moment she realized that it wouldn’t have mattered if it had been twenty years.
To hold back the words he covered her lips with his, because he couldn’t let himself hear it.
And everything in the fucking world exploded.
Son of a bitch.
He would have froze if every lust cell in his body hadn’t risen in revolt. Because by freezing, he would be stopping. Hell no.
He tasted her.
His tongue slipped over her lips, licked at them, and before he could retrieve his basic common sense, he gave into this one hunger.
It wouldn’t go any further. He wouldn’t allow it.
But this one pleasure was incredible.
Tehya was terrified to breathe, to whimper in hunger, or to moan in pleasure. She was entranced by the kiss she hadn’t really expected, held enthralled by a hunger that suddenly exploded through her system. His tongue stroked against hers, exciting that feminine, sensual part of her that went deeper than she had ever imagined.
But oh God.
She could feel herself trembling, shaking against him. Her hand lifted, fingers outspread, not really touching him. She wanted to touch him. Desperately. Feel him.
He was warm, so warm. The feel of his lips moving against hers, over them, his tongue stroking against hers sent pleasure racing through her as she lifted, strained to get closer without gripping his arms and pulling herself straight into his embrace.
His fingers curved around her shoulders, held her to him. Her fingers curled and before she knew it she was gripping the material of his shirt, feeling the rolled sleeves beneath them.
Okay, maybe he wouldn’t feel her hands shaking through the material of his clothing. Maybe he wouldn’t sense the incredible need that, there seemed, there was no escape from. A need that had tormented her since the day she had met him.
“God. Tey.” His hands slid down her arms, gripped her hips and jerked her closer, pulling her against the hard, heated length of his cock.
Behind denim, thick and hard, the heated flesh of his erection was a wedge of temptation, a promise of satisfaction, and it was pressing into her lower stomach. She could feel the promise of satisfaction within her grasp. His hands gripped and kneaded her ass, lifting her, the silk of her gown falling, press
ing between her legs as she felt his thigh wedging between hers, the rough denim rubbing the silk against the swollen, sensitive flesh of her sex.
She had never deemed herself a romantic person, but she saw starbursts.
His teeth nipped at her lips as she gasped, fighting to draw in oxygen as his lips tore from hers, the rasp of the day’s growth of his beard scraping against her jaw in a caress that had her arching closer.
It was exquisite. It was better than she had ever imagined it could be, and her imagination was damned good.
“Jordan.” The gasp of his name was a sigh of pleasure as she felt his hand move from her rear to her thigh, his fingers edging beneath the silk of her gown, the calloused tips of his fingers stroking up the outside of her thigh.
“Is this what you want, Tey?” His arm wrapped around her waist, lifted her, and before she could do more than breathe out roughly she was pressed against the wall as he lifted her thigh, pulling it to his hips as he lifted her closer.
Her gown fell back from her thighs as she felt his hard, muscular thigh press harder, more firmly into the sensitive mound of her pussy.
Her clit throbbed. The aching torment of unquenched pleasure rose inside her, burning through her body, and dampening her skin with perspiration.
“Answer me, Tey.” Rougher, darker, his voice stroked over her senses as she felt his fingers curve over the bare flesh of her rear. “Is this what you want, sweetheart?” His fingers curved, pushed beneath the curve of her rear, and found the lush, slick flesh weeping in need between her thighs.
“Yes.” It was a hiss of exquisite pleasure. His fingers stroked, rubbing against the clenched opening of her pussy and sent rasping flares of sensation rushing through the sensitive flesh, through her clit and straight to her womb.
Oh God, she wanted to come. She was so close. She could feel the need throbbing in her clit, rushing through her veins. It was a pleasure borne of emotion, and she knew it. Emotion she kept tightly reined, until now.
Until his fingers rubbed against her opening, pressed and parted the sensitive flesh to slip inside, just enough to make her entire body burn. To penetrate just deep enough to make her hungrier, to make her moan in rising excitement.