“Please, Sloan … take me.”

He gave her a lazy smile. “No … not yet. I’m not ready for you.”

“Yes, you are.” She couldn’t believe he could make such a claim when she could feel his rock-hard erection stiff against his stomach, throbbing and pulsing.

“Touch me,” he ordered tauntingly. “Make me harder for you.”

She tried to obey. Her fumbling fingers slid between their bodies, down his hair-roughened chest and flat belly to his groin. She wanted him so badly, she was actually shaking. She found the splendor of his arousal, but her hand slipped on the pulsing crest.

“Greenhorn,” Sloan goaded softly into her mouth.

“Sloan … please…”

She strained against him, her taut nipples scraping his chest, and he relented.

“Easy, honey, I’ll take care of you.”

Sliding his hands under her arms, he lifted her up to pull her astride his thighs. “I’ll give you the wildest ride of your life.” Deliberately he rubbed the hard ridge of his manhood against her soft mound, making her shudder in torment. Finally, though, he lowered her onto his thrusting erection to satisfy her passionate need.

Shivering and grateful, Heather settled over him, sinking down to envelop his shaft. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she savored the feel of the hot, sweet length buried deep inside her.

“That feel better?” he murmured, though he already knew the answer. She was on the edge; he knew he could finish right now with no more than a hard thrust of his hips.

When she rocked her body against him, seeking to impale herself harder, he stopped the soft surge of her thighs with his hands on her hips.

“No, be still,” he commanded in the slow, deep tones of arousal. “I haven’t given you permission to move.”

Heather quieted, but it required a fierce effort. She could feel a desperate tension building in her body. There was something about maintaining that utter stillness that heightened every sensation.

Sloan seemed not to care that he was driving her mad. Indolently, he shut his eyes and leaned his head against the chair back while he grew very hard and heavy inside her. She could feel his pulsing throb like a heartbeat.

Still lazily, he bent his head to nuzzle her nipple. Heather whimpered, instinctively pushing her breast against his hot, loving mouth. When his lips closed over the aching peak, she sighed in a deep, almost painful satisfaction. Her hands closed in his hair, clutching him to her.

The soft sound of his suckling was powerfully erotic. And with every rasp of his tongue on her budded nipples, she felt a throbbing echo deep within her.

Almost without warning, then, he thrust upward, pressing deeper, impaling her to the hilt.

“Oh, God, yes … Sloan…” Her back arched in writhing response.

“I like to hear you moan for me… Do it again. Let me hear how good it feels to you.”