He straight-armed the woman who was supposed to be his quarry. That was how this always worked in the past. He played the hero in charge. The woman played the coy, shy, demure, helpless female. Ashley had certainly been all that before. Yet with every blink of her big, expressive eyes, his blood boiled hotter. This wasn’t playing. The whole idea of an aggressive female in his bed, turned this night into something he hadn’t expected.
“Scoot back,” he ordered, as he cupped those lush, soft mounds of womanly flesh and strummed her nipples through the purple lace. They turned hard and tight at his touch. He was already hard as steel. She moaned, the perfect accompaniment to the unbidden groan in his throat. Man, what she did to him.
“No. You scoot back. This started in my bedroom, and I’m still in charge.”
Damned if a grin didn’t crack his face at her sass. “You’re in charge, huh?”
She nodded, no sign of the demure woman she’d been before in sight.
Tripp let go and stepped back a full foot. “Okay then, tell me what you want me to do next.”
All that brash feminine bravado shimmered with hesitation. “Don’t stop that,” she told him. Reaching for his hands, she pulled him back to the edge of the bed, then wiggled, as she placed them right back where they’d been.
Ah, she liked his hands on her body. He re-engaged happily, cupping those soft, sweet babies, his thumbs rubbing over the lace until her nipples were once again hard-as-diamond tips. He was looking down at her. She was looking up at him. Breathing hard. Her chest heaving. Still not experienced enough to know what came next, but so damned beautiful. She was breathtaking. Heart-stealingly perfect.
“What now?” Tripp asked, his voice turned to gravel and his blood on fire.
“I… I…” Ashley bit that damned bottom lip, already glistening and swollen. “Kiss me,” she ordered.
“Where?”
“Ahh…” A sigh breathed out of her as she pointed at her mouth. “Here.”
He bent over her, still palming her breasts, his knees against the mattress. Tripp kept the kiss chaste and brief, teasing this lovely wannabe-dominatrix, who didn’t have a clue how to order a man like him around.
“Not like that,” she huffed petulantly into his face. “Like you did this morning.”
“You mean when I did this?” He sank to his knees on the floor, leaned forward, took firm hold of her hips, and tongued her navel. The scent of her surrounded Tripp, and he was lost in a haze of silky softness and feminine pheromones. Closing his eyes, he kissed and nuzzled, let his nose and mouth feast their way up her stomach and between her succulent breasts. His nostrils flared at the scent of her womanly warmth. And Tripp wanted more.
Her palms settled on his shoulders. “Yessss. Just... like... Oh, fudge. Yes… That.”
He meant to take it slow. After a lifetime of neglect, Ashley needed to be in charge. But with one taste of the cherries on her skin, the fuse was lit. He pushed her bra up to her chin and nibble-kissed sloppy, wet kisses over those succulent breasts, then tipped her flat to her back and climbed onto the bed beside her. His hands landed on her waist, and his heart fell at her feet. Tripp swallowed the tip of her breast, then suckled, drawing that nipple deep into his mouth. Stretching it. Tugging and nipping. Making her moan.
Ashley’s hands cupped the back of his head, holding him to her. She’d untangled her long legs when she’d fallen back. Best move ever. Ashley’s eyes were closed, and her cheeks were red and feverish. He had just the thing for that temperature spike.
By then her breasts glistened from his mouth. Running his palms over her hips and down her legs, he took gentle hold of her ankles and pointed her toes to the ceiling. Which put her entire body in one of the most erotic positions known to man. On her back. On display.
Tripp leaned back to get a good look. Her hair was mussed. Her lips were wet. Her sapphire eyes were bright, shining with lust. Her nipples were wet, her long legs were stiff, and those damned boy shorts and that bra were in his way.
He didn’t want to scare her. He was a big guy. Heavy as a tank. Broad. Built for football and combat. Made to be in charge. But she was a tiny, slender thing. And he needed out of his pants. He’d dressed commando. His boys were dying to meet her girls. They couldn’t take much more of the zipper’s teeth chewing at them.
Without waiting to be told what to do, Tripp hooked one hand around both of her ankles, and reached his free hand behind her back. With her bra unlatched, he smoothed his free hand under her ass and kept going, until those cute boy shorts were on the floor.
She slipped her bra straps off her shoulders and tossed it away.
Tripp situated his knees at her delicious butt cheeks. He spread her legs again, wider this time. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples and between his shoulder blades at the self-control this luscious view cost. His cock was begging for freedom. But he was still in jeans and this was her show.
“What now?” he breathed huskily.
Moaning, Ashley tossed her head from side to side on the pillow. “Take your darn pants off, Tripp. I can’t reach them like this, and you know it. Stop teasing. Make love to me. Just do it.”
Thank you, Jesus!
Tripp lifted off the mattress and stripped. In record time, he retrieved the strip of condoms from his pocket, suited up, and was kneeling back between her long, stiff legs. His hands cuffed her ankles, and her toes were once again pointed at the ceiling. This was his new favorite position.
“I’ll go slow,”
