"Your body was made to be touched. You're so responsive, so beautiful. I love to see you this way, naked and moaning for me, creaming between your thighs because you want my cock.”

She shivered at his words, whispered into her ear. He slid his middle finger into her damp heat, and she bit her bottom lip. He added a second finger and thrust in and out very slowly, over and over, finding a sensitive place deep inside her and brushing over it on every outward stroke.

"Jack," she breathed.

She fought the urge to grind down on his thrusting fingers and desperately grasped the edge of the pedestal, splaying her other hand out on the wall. Hell, she was going to embarrass herself and come from just the touch of his hand again.

He ground the heel of his hand against her clit. Pleasure skittered through her body and Mira whimpered. Her body teetered on the edge of a powerful climax. "Please, Jack.”

"Please what?”

"Just please." She squeezed her eyes shut and willed her mind to form coherent sentences. "I need to feel you. I need to touch you. I want your cock inside me. Please.”

He took a moment to answer, then finally responded in a strained voice. "Turn around.”

She turned and looked up at him, stared into his dilated eyes. He'd seemed so coolly in charge of his sexual need while he'd been driving her crazy a moment ago, but now she saw that he was poised on the edge. Mira wanted to push him over, make him relinquish all that tightly leashed control.

Because Jack in control was something indeed, but she could only imagine how incredible he would be without it.

She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, feeling the powerful bunch of his muscles. Under his gaze, she felt beautiful, sexy, and desirable. She hadn't felt that way in a long time—if ever.

Finding the edge of his cream-colored sweater, she pushed it up slowly. As it went, she licked and nipped over his exposed flesh—up his washboard abs and over his luscious silk-poured-over-iron chest. The man was gorgeous, and she wanted to taste every inch of him.

He groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair, releasing her only long enough for her to pull his sweater over his head and toss it to the floor.

Standing there in only his jeans, he lowered his head and forced a kiss out of her, using his grip on her hair to guide her mouth to his. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue stroking hers at an erotically slow pace. Her hands roved his body and eventually found the button of his jeans. She undid it and pulled down the zipper. Just the sound made Mira grow even wetter.