Spearing his fingers into that long, lush mane, he cupped her head and drew her close for the kiss he wanted. Slow, deep, thorough.

He licked his way inside her mouth, tilting her head for full access. The soft, needy sounds she made kept him there for a long time, until her knees seemed to give way and she sank more heavily against him. Still, he didn’t break the kiss he’d waited forever to taste. He stroked an experimental touch down her throat, pausing to circle the hollow at its base.

She reared back to look at him, her pupils dilated, her eyes passion-dazed. “I will combust out of these clothes if we wait any longer to get naked.”

“We can’t have that.” He kissed his way along her collarbone while his fingers worked the buttons on her suit, unfastening each one until the jacket opened to her narrow waist. Her camisole was next.

The sight of her pale breasts straining the navy blue lace of her bra cups made his mouth water. He spanned her waist with his hands, skimming up her ribs to mold his palms against the swell of her enticing curves. When he tipped a bra strap off her shoulder with one finger, he watched the lace cup roll down to free an enticing taut nipple. He bent to capture it between his lips, drawing on her while she arched toward him, her hands roaming over his chest, down to his waist and underneath his T-shirt.

She wriggled closer, her nails lightly scoring his abs as he turned his attention to the other breast.

Her efforts to undress him slowed as her breath came faster. He helped her by dragging his shirt up and off, leaving it on a bar stool before he turned her in the direction of his bedroom.

“Come with me, sweetheart.” He hadn’t meant to take things so far in the kitchen. By now, his whole body was on fire.

“That’s the plan.” She stripped off the lace bra as she walked, letting it fall on a hall table outside his suite. “Now that I’ve committed to this conflagration, I’m requesting as many orgasms as you deem manageable.”

Stepping deeper into his bedroom, she sent him a saucy look over her shoulder, that dark tangle of hair nearly brushing her waist.

“You’ll have to beg me for mercy.” He toed the door shut behind them, his eyes on Elena as she eased down the zipper on the back of her pencil skirt.

He couldn’t lose his pants fast enough—but left on his boxers—before he reached for her skirt. He wanted to feel the way the fabric slid down those memorable hips.