“Nothing.”

“Liar.” He came over to her and took her hand again, stroking her skin with his thumb.

Imogen sighed. “I suck.”

“Well, that’s promising.”

That made her smile despite her best intentions to look worried. “I’m just thinking too much.”

“I can tell. And you need to stop it.” He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “I’m going to make you stop it. I’m going to kiss you and suck you and lick you until there isn’t a single thought in your head except amazement that you are coming again.”

Wow. Yes, if the state of her damp panties was any indication, she responded well to alpha male domination. “Again? I haven’t had an orgasm yet.”

“Give me five minutes.” Ty stepped back and yanked off his T-shirt. He took her hands and put them on his chest. “Touch me,” he demanded.

She could do that. His skin was warm and firm, and she slid her greedy fingers all over it while he bent down and kissed her. His mouth always did fabulous things to her insides, pushing aside those pesky doubts with each desperate press, each thrust of his tongue into her.

“I’m going to unbutton your shirt and taste your nipples,” he said, moving down her neck with hot kisses, his fingers already working at her buttons.

Cool air hit her overheated flesh when he undid the first button, his breath raising goose bumps on her where he had left damp spots from his tongue trailing down to the dip between her breasts. He was still working on the second button when without preamble he shoved the fabric of her bra to the side and took her nipple into his mouth.

“Oh!” Imogen squeezed her nails into his chest in shock, her head falling back at the jolt of pleasure that shot through her.

He lifted his head and murmured into her chest as he finished off the second button. “Your nipple is perfect. Like a little raspberry, tart and rosy.”

She could honestly say no man had ever said that to her before. Kind of liking the idea of being tart and rosy, Imogen said, “Thank you. I have two.”

Ty gave a soft laugh. “I know. Is the other one jealous?” He blew on the nipple he had dampened with his tongue, causing her to shiver in delight, then covered it back up and bared the other one.

Instead of covering it with his mouth, he slid his tongue around it, over and over, his lips brushing the tip but never giving it his full attention. Imogen bit her own lip to prevent a groan from slipping out, and shifted, trying to force contact. He ignored her and continued to lick everywhere on her breast except her nipple, giving a teasing little flick now and again but for the most part torturing her by getting close but never giving her the satisfaction of pulling her tight nipple into his mouth and sucking. Imogen moved her hands restlessly on his chest, shifted in her shoes uneasily, tried to maneuver to anticipate his movement and have him land on the aching bud, but he evaded her.