“What’s crazy?” Peyton’s voice was hushed. Her eyes mesmerized him.
“You’re more than good enough for anyone.” An invisible force drew him nearer to her. Just a taste.
Darius touched his mouth to Peyton’s. His muscles went lax at the feel of her soft, moist lips. Peyton sighed, parting her lips and letting him in. Darius’s muscles shook at the sensation. Warm, wet, sweet. His tongue swept inside, seeking her secrets. Her tongue reached out to meet his in a suggestive dance. She stroked him. He caressed her. She teased and tasted him. He embraced her.
Peyton’s arms rose, caressing the muscles of his torso through his bronze sweater. Darius’s heartbeat was heavy beneath her eager touch. His hands slid up her back. He pressed her warm, soft curves into his body, heating the chilled spaces.
Darius drew his hand up the side of Peyton’s torso until his palm tested the weight of her breast through her blue sweatshirt. Peyton gasped and groaned deep in her throat. He drank in the sound. It affected him like alcohol in his blood. The pressure in his groin grew heavier, his caresses more urgent. But it was more than a physical reaction to the woman in his arms. It was emotional. This time he felt more than he’d ever felt before. He ached and burned. He needed and wanted.
Darius slipped his hand under Peyton’s sweatshirt. His breath caught in his throat. The little professor wasn’t wearing a bra.
Peyton gasped, breaking their kiss. Her nipple beaded, branding his palm. She arched her back, pressing her breast deeper into his hand. Darius bore the weight gladly. He kneaded her. Traced her curves with the back of his hand. Pinched her nipple with his fingertips.
“Your skin. So smooth. Soft. Hot.” He spoke against her neck. Peyton shivered against him.
Darius wanted her closer. He lifted her onto his lap. Peyton straddled him, pressing her knees against his hips. Her movements were as urgent as his as she rocked her body against him. He licked his way up her neck, trailing his tongue against her skin. He kissed her jawline, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
“So sweet.” He husked the words into her ear, loving the way she shivered against him.
Peyton groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.” She leaned forward and sunk her teeth against his shoulder through his knit sweater.
Darius’s hips lifted between her thighs. “You’re making me lose my mind.”
Peyton chuckled into the curve of Darius’s neck. She sat back on his lap. Reaching beneath his sweater, Peyton shoved the garment up and over his head, tossing it behind her. She leaned in, tracing her tongue in the groove between his pectorals.
“I’ve never felt this way before.” She breathed against his damp skin.
His passion swelled. Darius gritted his teeth. “Neither have I.”
Peyton sat up and stripped off her sweatshirt. Darius swallowed. Hard. He leaned forward and took her breast into his mouth. Peyton moaned.
He cupped her hips and stood. “Bedroom.”
Peyton jerked her head over her shoulder and wrapped her legs around his waist. Darius followed her nonverbal direction. He carried her across the living room, down a short hallway to her bedroom.
This large, square space was more in keeping with the Peyton he was beginning to know—warm, colorful, and welcoming. Most importantly, there was a neatly made king-sized bed in the center of the room.
“Condom?” Peyton’s voice was a breathless plea.
Darius released her beside him at the foot of the bed. He reached into the front pocket of his slacks and pulled out his wallet. He took a condom from a side compartment and laid it on the bed. “I didn’t plan this.”
“I’m not complaining.” Peyton smiled.
They made quick work of the rest of their clothing. Slacks, yoga pants, underwear, socks, and shoes were strewn across the floor.
Darius drank in Peyton’s nudity. Her figure was petite but powerful: narrow shoulders and full, firm breasts. Tiny waist, trim hips, and long, well-shaped legs. “You are so beautiful.”
Peyton’s body hummed. Already her senses were more heightened than they’d ever been in the act of lovemaking. She was damp and throbbing. Her skin was sensitive. With Darius, she felt like she was the only thing on his mind, the only woman in the world. Special and significant. The hunger in his midnight eyes filled her with confidence and a sense of power she’d never felt before.
She stepped forward, trailing her index finger from his chest to his hips. “Your body is art.”
And it was. He was a flesh-and-blood Adonis. His broad, sculpted shoulders; six-pack abdominals; lean hips; long legs with powerful muscles. She must be dreaming. Her palms itched to touch him all over. She laid them flat on his chest, then dragged her hands down his body. She sank to her knees, drawing her hands to his thighs.
“Peyton.” Darius choked on her name.
“Let me.” She licked the length of his erection, then drew it deep into her mouth.
Darius cupped her shoulders. His fingers shook on her skin as he tried to lift her away from him. His voice was rough. “I want to come inside of you.”