He suddenly grabbed my wrists and tipped me so that I was leaning back, supported by my arms, opening up space between us so he could kiss lower. His mouth reached my breasts but before his lips or his tongue, I felt his words, scalding little rushes of air against my sensitive flesh that made me squirm in his lap. “Jesus, girl, you’ve got the nicest breasts I’ve ever seen. ‘Been thinking about ‘em since the garage.”

He used his grip on my wrists to lower me a little more. I had my eyes closed but I could feel him gazing at me, hungrily devouring me. “Bloody perfect,” he breathed. The words sank into my brain, heated chunks of rough London granite that crushed my insecurities into dust.

He lifted me a little closer. My wrists felt deliciously small in his grip and I could feel the raw strength of him as he lifted me like I weighed nothing. There was something wonderful about being so effortlessly handled.

Then his mouth engulfed one breast and I cried out in delicious shock, arching my back as his tongue slathered the soft underside, then swept over my nipple. My nipples were hard from the cold but now, as his mouth pumped a slow, steady, drumbeat of heat into my body, they stiffened more, into throbbing, sensitive peaks. Each swipe of his tongue sent crackling, silver ribbons of pleasure straight down to my groin and I started to pant and groan.

It sank in that he was naked, too. I opened my eyes and gazed at him: leaning back and looking up at him like this, he looked even bigger. The tan swells of his shoulders and biceps were standing out huge and hard as he supported me and his soft black hair brushed my chin as he licked at me. He must have felt me looking at him because he lifted his mouth from me, leaving my breast wetly shining, and raised his head to look at me. Those absinthe eyes sparkled, his lids heavy with lust. “God, you’re incredible,” he said.

I swallowed. No one had ever called me incredible before.

“Come here, girl,” he muttered, and he tugged on my wrists to pull me up. I gave a little squeal that got higher when I felt him let go of my wrists. But he caught me before gravity could pull me back again, his big hands cradling my back and crushing me to his chest.

When I was securely snug against him, he cupped my chin in one hand and kissed me long and deep. I moaned and twisted, my ass grinding against his thighs. For the first time, my hands were free to explore him and I slid them over the huge, hard spheres of his shoulders, then rollercoastered them down over the bulges of his biceps and along the inside of his forearms, going a little weak at the veined strength of them.