‘I wouldn’t want to.’ He looked up again. ‘Because the only thing I’d want to talk about would be you.’
‘That’s a very boring conversation.’
Sam laughed. ‘You’re so fucking cute.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘You know I don’t like that word.’
He stopped his hand movements. In a flash her own hand moved to join his, pressing him against her breast. ‘I thought I told you not to stop.’
Chastened, he cupped her again, feeling the weight of her in his palm. ‘Why don’t you like being called cute?’
‘Because I’m five foot nothing and it makes me feel like a kid.’
He squeezed hard. ‘You don’t feel like a kid to me.’ Roughly, he dragged the fabric cup down, below her breast. Exposing her. The wire beneath it pushed her up, her nipple high and proud.
‘Can I kiss you here?’ He ran a finger over the rosy peak.
Her eyes flickered down. A look of uncertainty flashed across them.
‘I don’t have to . . . ’ Sam voiced his concern. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’
‘I want you to.’
‘But?’ he prompted.
She was silent for a moment. Had he gone too far? Sam didn’t think so. In his experience – and if you made him, he would admit it was fairly extensive – getting to second base was rarely a reason to stop. Yet Cesca was so far removed from the girls he’d been used to he wasn’t even sure what she was thinking.
‘But it’s been a while,’ she finally admitted. ‘Since I’ve done this kind of thing, I mean. A long while.’
He wasn’t sure why that thought excited him so much. It was as wrong as wanting a girl to be a virgin when the guy was a player. Such disparity in power wasn’t ever something he’d looked for in a relationship. But being the one to ignite this feeling inside her . . . well that was like a shot of adrenalin to the heart.
‘We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’
She was alarmed. ‘I want to, I do. Believe me.’ She looked down at her still-erect nipple. ‘And if you don’t believe me, maybe my body can persuade you.’
‘Sweetheart, your body could persuade me of anything right now.’
She grabbed his thumb, moving it gently across her skin. The peak of her breasts dug into the pad. ‘Do I need to persuade you?’
‘Does it look like I need persuading?’ Surely she could feel the ridge of his cock against her leg? He wasn’t exactly pulling it away from her. ‘Does it feel like I do?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then don’t worry about my motivations, Cesca. I can promise you I’m all in here.’
She swallowed nervously. He watched the delicate skin of her neck undulate as she did. ‘You are?’
‘Yes, I am.’ He said it loudly. Resolutely. Unsure of whether he was trying to persuade her or himself. But the truth of the words was so apparent, so obvious, it was amazing to him that she couldn’t see that too.
‘OK then.’
‘OK?’ He wasn’t quite sure what she meant. There was no way he wanted to go further than she was ready for. Not after dancing around her for so long. But after the night he’d had – one spent pacing furiously, worried about what she was up to with that Italian asshole – it was hard to restrain himself.
‘OK then, don’t stop,’ she told him. ‘Keep doing what you’re doing, but do it a bit quicker.’
He couldn’t help but laugh at her petulant tone. ‘Don’t get angry at me. I don’t like it when you’re angry.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘When have you seen me angry?’ Not waiting for his answer, she threaded her fingers through his hair, pushing him down, until his lips were only a breath away from her nipple.