His wicked words made her fluttery inside, like a horde of butterflies were break dancing. “Thank you for understanding. Most guys would have given up long ago, I’ll bet.”
He stroked her cheek. “It’s just you and me. I don’t care what any other guy would do, especially Owen. So if you’re ready to move on and have sex instead of talking . . .”
As Decker yanked at the belt of her robe, she looked up at him through the shadows, then over at the little lamp on her nightstand.
He planted a hand in her hair and tugged. “Focus on me. If I want the lamp on, I’ll take care of it. Right now, I don’t give a damn about the setting. I care about pleasing you. I can’t do it if you’re half clothed and overthinking. You’re nervous. You don’t know me well. You’ve never done this with anyone who knows how to make you feel good. You’re having a hard time letting go. I get all that. But you’ve got to let me try.”
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. Decker was utterly, totally right. She had to get out of her head and stop thinking about what she was used to. He’d shown her in every way that he wanted to be here with her, and had the experience and patience to give her pleasure.
With a nod, she shoved the lid on all her insecurities and worked the knot of her belt loose. She parted the silk a sliver, watching Decker watch her. He looked so sexy—intent male ready to conquer. His desire wrapped around her and caressed her skin. Her breath came hard, fast.
She peeled the robe from her shoulders. With only a whisper of sound, it slithered to the carpet beneath her feet. She stood before a man she hadn’t known when she’d eaten dinner tonight, wearing nothing more than a tiny pair of black panties. Only very damp lace separated him from her secret flesh. He stared, his blue eyes darkening with hunger in the shadowed room. A shiver of thrill went through her when she thought about his reaction to what he hadn’t yet seen.
“Fuck,” he muttered, lifting his hand to her. “You’re beyond beautiful.”
“Really?”
“Gorgeous. Voluptuous.” He bent and nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips to her. “So innocent looking. Every time you bat your lashes at me, I get hard. When I feel you tremble in my arms, it takes everything I have not to toss you to the bed and have my wicked way with you.”
His fingers tightened just a fraction on her breast before he cursed softly. Then he gripped her neck and positioned her directly under him as his lips crashed over hers. The sensation jolted her, an immediate zing of desire. Rachel melted against Decker and opened to him entirely, meeting every possessive thrust and teasing retreat. She whimpered into his kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck, all but purring at the feel of his hot skin plastered against her.
Then he backed her toward the bed, his persistent kiss flavored with impatience and demand. Already, he was unraveling her. Less than thirty seconds and Rachel felt herself turning to putty.
Arousal. She’d read about it, even felt little tremors of it when she self-pleasured. But Decker was unleashing an earthquake of need inside her. It was rocking her every notion about sex, along with her world.
He helped her onto the bed, his mouth still on hers as he crawled after her. His huge, hard body covered her own, blasting heat through her as he gently abraded her nipples with the fine hair across his chest. More dusted his legs, and as he pressed them against her inner thighs to open her wide for his invasion, the sensation was so foreign . . . amazing. Her vocabulary was almost inadequate to describe the awakening of every nerve and cell in her body, the tingling of her skin, the pounding of her heart, the rightness flowing through her body.
A year shy of thirty, and she’d never quite understood what it meant to be a woman taken by a man. As Decker ravaged her lips with yet another deep kiss, taking everything she gave while plying her with more pleasure, she began to grasp the concept. Pure sensation wrapped her up—and finally she comprehended just how two lovers shared sex. Heartbeats and breaths mingled as they touched palm-to-palm. They exchanged an entire wealth of longing with a stare, without uttering a word. And that was before they joined bodies.
How was it possible that she felt closer and more in tune with the stranger she’d met hours ago than the man she’d been married to for nearly four years?
Rachel didn’t know, but she was done questioning it. She bent her knees around his hips, letting him deeper into the cradle of her body, and held on for dear life as a joy way beyond pleasure flowed through her.
Decker’s rough palms skimmed down her side, anchoring his hand on her hip. “I want inside you so bad. But I want to show you what you’ve been missing more.”
She had almost no time to process what those shiver-worthy words meant before he worked his way down her body. His mouth hovered just above her nipples, his hot breath caressing them. The blood strained into the hard tips until they felt tight and tingly.
“Tell me what feels good so I can send you soaring.”
She gave him a shaky nod, raking her fingers through the inky strands of his dark hair. “All right.”
He didn’t waste any more time or words. Instead, Decker just fastened his lips around her left nipple. Soft, slow, sleek . . . the touch was part exploration, part torment. Rachel arched up into his mouth with a little cry of need.
“You like that?”
“Hmm . . . yes.”
Her hips moved restlessly, and she filtered her fingers through his hair again, reveling in its softness and wishing it was long enough to wrap in her fist and make him taste her nipple once more. Thankfully, she didn’t have to prompt him again to pay attention to her breasts. He lapped at their tips, nipped, teased . . . tormented. Every lick and suck became its own form of torture. Ecstasy. Agony. A need for more burst through her, igniting her blood.
Decker eased back for a moment and stared at her nipples unabashedly. Under his scrutiny, they seemed to fill and tighten even more, as if eager to display themselves for him.
“So damn pretty,” he whispered over the distended peak, thumbing the other. “So lush.”
Rachel whimpered.
“You feel it, don’t you?”
She nodded frantically.
“You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
A smile creased his face. He turned to rub his whiskered cheek against her swelling breast, her sensitive nipple. The scratchy-soft abrasion added another level of sensation, and she arched, grabbing at him.
“Sensitive.” His voice rang with approval.
“I never thought so. I mean, I’ve never . . .”
“Responded to having your nipples stimulated?”
She frowned until he set his mouth over them again. “No one’s ever really touched . . . I can’t think when you do that.”
“Good. Just feel. I want you to let me have my fill of your nipples. I want you to get so wet for me that when I put my mouth on your pussy, I’ll have a feast that will take me a long time to devour. I want you so close, ready, and eager that when I start fucking you, you won’t be able to stop screaming.”
His words alone took her desire higher. The tight beat of need under her clit became an incessant throb. A few hours ago, she would have doubted that he—or anyone else—could make her feel this way. But Decker, whose last name she hadn’t even asked, knew exactly how to give her body everything she’d ever fantasized about.
She was going to end her birthday a really happy woman.
“Hurry!” she panted.
But he took his sweet time tonguing his way around her areola, then brushing his fingers over the damp flesh. He came closer and closer to the aching tips until he finally sucked them in deep. The sensation darted straight between her legs again and again like a live wire. She shuddered in his arms with the jolt of desire.
“Hurrying defeats the purpose, and you’re not making the demands here. You’re lying back and taking
