Shivers. Heat. Using dessert as a distraction, Julia straightened on unsteady legs, grabbed the tray of bonbons, set it on the table and reclaimed her seat.
He eyed the chocolate treats with unfettered delight, and she kind of wished she’d smeared every bite over her naked body.
Enough! I’m just a guan ren to him. A means to an end he had to pursue because that was his sole purpose in life. The seduction of the box’s owner. To him, she wasn’t special; she couldn’t be. And she needed to be special to her boyfriend…lover…whatever! She needed to be special to someone. Her sister loved her, but Faith had her own life.
How pathetic Julia would be if she accepted such indifference and did not demand more for herself—more for Tristan. He deserved to feel special, too. Everyone did. Well, most people did. Some people. A few.
Never once taking his violet gaze off her, he lifted a bonbon and licked the chocolate. “Come closer. Let me feed you dessert,” he said, his voice so silky she had to swallow a dreamy sigh.
Stay tough. Stay focused. “I’m not sure that would be wise, Tristan.”
“I care not if such indulgence is wise. I care only about our desire for each other.” His lids lowered in half-mast perusal, mentally stripping away her clothes and licking every inch of her. “I want another kiss.”
Her heart rate quickened with excitement, flames of arousal licking every inch of her. “Are you even attracted to me?” She needed to know. “Am I even close to your type?”
He scowled with his eyes and frowned with his mouth. “Of course I am attracted to you. Every time I glance at you, scent you or near you, I harden.”
He did? Her lungs emptied, catching her breath impossible. What would one more kiss hurt? Just one simple kiss? Practice for Peter…
Peter who?
“One kiss?” she rasped.
“Just one.” He touched her again, a simple coasting of his knuckles that set off a chain reaction of sensation.
Her nipples puckered, and her belly fluttered. Her skin sensitized. How did he do that? How did he make her feel so needy so quickly?
“There is no room for thought here,” Tristan said, as if he feared she would pull away at any moment. “We have defeated your propensity for issuing lectures. Now we will conquer your habit of overthinking.”
Leaning over, he dipped his index finger into the center of the bonbon, then traced the vanilla cream around the outline of her lips. Cold on her skin, fire in her blood. He stroked a path along the curve of her jaw, then dipped to her neck, touching so softly she felt the coolness of the ice cream rather than the actual touch. Julia shivered as he spread the sweetness over her skin. Air hitched in her throat.
“Come to me,” he breathed. His fingertip traveled downward, then around, anchoring at the base of her neck and drawing her forward until she half stood over the table. “I need you so desperately, draga.”
It was his words that finally broke her resistance. He needed her. Her! No other would do. Without breaking contact, she managed to maneuver around the table’s edge and close the remaining space between them. He remained seated, allowing her to peer down at him. His lips looked soft, and she was proud of herself for noticing because his erection currently pushed against her leg, and not focusing on it required immense effort.
“Put your arms around me,” he said oh so softly.
She knelt on the cool wood floor, her body positioned between his legs, her face level with his sternum. Sweeping her hands up the taut muscles of his chest proved irresistible. She savored his strength before finally twining around his neck as he’d demanded.
His knees pressed into her sides, the contact electric. It felt sinful and erotic, and she wanted the moment to last forever. He smelled good, beyond good, like soap and chocolate and vanilla.
He clasped her wrists, locking her in place, but such an action wasn’t necessary. At the moment, there was no other place she would rather be; this overly large, overly real man offered everything she’d ever wanted and then some.
Slowly he leaned over, lowering his mouth to hers but pausing when he was a breath away. “I can feel your body quivering, draga. Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “Burning hot.”
Featherlight, he kissed her cheek, a mere brush of lips to flesh. “Excited?”
“Yes.” How could she deny it when her body felt so alive, so eager?
He licked the outline of her lips. “Do you want my mouth on yours?”
Somehow she managed to nod.
“Say it, then. Say the words.”
“Yes, I—I think I do.”
“Ah-ah-ah. There’s to be no thinking, remember?”
Lost in a world of sensation, where inhibitions and embarrassment didn’t belong, she let herself run free. She ached, yearned for him, and finally confessed, “I need your mouth on mine, your tongue dancing with mine. Kiss me, Tristan. Kiss me hard and deep and do not stop.”
He chuckled softly, a heady rumble that purred with barely suppressed power. “This is one command I will enjoy obeying.” Finally, blessedly, he kissed her lips. His tongue met hers, blending the chocolate with the vanilla, and she jolted with bliss, eagerly welcoming him.
Just as before, it didn’t take long for passion to explode inside her. She moaned and held him tighter, unwilling to let him go. Tristan must have sensed a resurgence of her desperation, because he gripped her from behind and lifted her onto his lap in one swift motion.
Suddenly they were chest to chest. Hardness to softness. Instinctively, she worked her legs under the chair’s arms, then wrapped them around his waist. Even through the cotton fibers of his towel, the heat of his erection scorched her. He was thick and hard, and some wanton part of her wanted to take his entire length in her mouth, sucking him from base to tip then down again.
This went beyond practice for another man.
I shouldn’t be
