Page 8 of Heat & Hard Candies

I’d totally screwed up my explanation to Kyle about why I wanted to mate with him, but by some miracle, he didn’t hate me.

He called me beautiful.

Hewantedme.

And hekissedme.

I’d read hundreds of steamy books, hoping I’d eventually have some kind of hot moment of my own, and there I was.

Making out with an insanely gorgeous fae on a boat, in the middle of the ocean.

Watching him touch my breasts like he wanted to worship them.

Feeling his erection against my center.

It wasincredible.

And I needed more. So much more.

The door shut behind us, and he locked it.

I didn’t turn my head to check out our closet.

I didn’t care about the closet.

I just wanted him to keep touching me.

Hell, I justneededhim to keep touching me.

Kyle took a few more steps, and I frowned when my back didn’t meet a wall.

Instead, he sat down on the edge of a mattress.

Ohhh.

I’d asked for a closet, and he’d found us a room.

Perfect.

He was perfect.

His hands returned to my breasts, and I sucked in a breath at the sensation. He dragged his thumbs over my nipples, and it felt electric despite the fabric between us.

“Where were we, Beautiful?” he murmured the words, and I arched a little against his erection, trying to put him where I needed him.

“You were going to take my top off,” I breathed.

“We could have fun with it on, if you’d rather.” He teased my nipples again.

“No, take it off.”

Reaching behind me, he found the bow. His mouth met mine again, and he made love to my tongue as he slowly untied the double knot holding it in place.

When it came undone, he let go of my mouth and leaned back just far enough to pull the fabric over my head.

Worry tensed in my abdomen for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was so thick, it faded immediately.

“The world’s most perfect breasts,” he said, taking them in his hands.

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