Gentle knuckles swept the undersides of each breast. Then he dragged a fingertip around her nipple. “God, you are lovely. Just lovely.” Leaning forward, he licked the hard tip and she sucked in a breath, her hands clutching his shoulders. Then he drew her nipple into his mouth, using his tongue and teeth for pressure and a mild bite of pain, and the sweet tug echoed between her legs, a demanding pulse as more and more wetness gathered there. By the time he switched to the other breast, she was shifting her hips, desperate to ease the need rising inside her.

Strong hands cupped her backside and settled her atop his cloth-covered erection. She froze, uncertain, but he guided her, showing her how to use this part of his body for friction. And it felt incredible, the drag and sweep along her most sensitive tissues as he kept sucking on her. He grunted as she rocked, his hands sliding up to cup both her breasts. They worked together, moving and touching, panting and straining. The pleasure gathered in her belly, a rising storm just off in the distance. “Oh, Kit,” she breathed, digging her nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Releasing her nipple, he lunged for her mouth, kissing her hard. She whimpered as he pushed his tongue inside, the hunger within her climbing, tightening, her body growing increasingly uncoordinated. The sofa bumped against the wall, but she didn’t care. As if sensing her desperation, he took over, his hands at her waist, moving her rhythmically, until she broke, the pleasure overtaking her and making her quake. Her head dropped onto his shoulder, her moans disappearing into the skin of his throat. Finally she quieted and he held her, stroking her back, while her body recovered.

Under her palm, his heart raced as his chest pumped for air. His head rested on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed, a pained but pleased expression on his face. Had he . . . ?

She started to move and he caught her, holding her still. “Don’t. Give me a moment.”

“You haven’t any idea what I was about to do.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he gritted out. “I’m holding on to my sanity by a very thin thread. Just wait.”

Ah. He was attempting to recover, to gather his wits. This is the last time. If you want to see him unravel, this is your only chance.

She glanced down at where their bodies rested against one another. He was still clothed, his thick erection trapped between them. Yet she could see the powerful lines, the sharp ridges and valleys, the points of his hip bones. He was beautiful, a perfect male specimen. She adored everything about him, inside and out. At least, adoration was the only emotion she’d allow herself to admit at the moment.

I hope you turn those lessons back around on him and make him beg.

She’d like that very much, actually.