Page 64 of She Was Made for Me

She blinks, staring at me for a second. I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck, her chest rising and falling. “I think I will too,” she breathes, her voice husky as she leans into me. It sends a shot of lust straight to my dick.

“You never wanted to go out with him, anyway,” I say, more for myself than anything else.

“And you know what I want, do you?”

“I have an idea.” My gaze falls back to her mouth and she shivers. “You want this.” I lean down, brushing my lips over the warm skin where her neck meets her shoulder. It feels so good to finally have my mouth back on her that I take my time, tasting the sweet skin below her ear. Her breath falters as my lips move to her earlobe and whisper, “You need to be fucked by a man who knows how to do it right.” Her mouth forms a perfect little O, and I chuckle. “You don’t have to act so shocked. You just have to tell me I’m right.”

She swallows, her pupils wide and dark. “You’re right,” she whispers.

“Good girl.”

Her breath rushes out, a pink blush staining her cheeks. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but seeing her physical response to those words—I’d bet anything she’s already soaked by the way she’s squeezing her thighs together—I can’t help but give her a devilish smile. I’ll call her whatever she wants if it gets her off.

I lean down to take her mouth again, leading her backward until she’s against the wall. She hooks a leg over my hip and pulls me into her as her tongue meets mine. I’m tempted to slide that dress up her thighs, push her panties aside, and sink inside her right here, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from last night it’s that I don’t want to fuck her quickly against the wall. I want to take my time.

I drag myself back from her lips, adjusting the throbbing ache in my jeans. Then I slide my hand into hers.

“Upstairs. I want to take you on my bed.”

25

Kyle

Violet’s eyes are round with anticipation as she follows me up the newly restored staircase. The layout of the top floor has changed since I moved in, now providing two bedrooms with a small bathroom, and my bed is in the farthest one, overlooking the backyard.

Well, I say ‘bed,’ but really it’s a large, double-height inflatable mattress. I’d much prefer to be taking her on a four-poster bed in a stunning hotel room—or, God, in my own bed at home in Maine—but this will have to do. She doesn’t seem to mind though, her gaze following me as I lead her across the room and switch on the lamp.

“Is this really happening?” She looks almost nervous, and it makes me pause. No matter how much I want to tear her clothes off and devour her, no matter how much I love playing with her, this will only happen if she truly wants it. I’d never make her do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

“Only if you want it to, sweetheart.”

Her pulse beats in her neck as she gazes up at me. “I really do,” she whispers.

I pull her close, my heart softening for her again, despite all my intentions. This won’t be a one-night stand, and that will make everything unbelievably complicated, but at this moment I don’t care. All I care about is being close to her, to finally exploring this thing between us.

I turn her around in my arms, so her back is to my front, and sweep her hair off to one side as I slowly tug down the zipper on the back of her dress. The scarlet fabric slides over her arms, down her waist, then pools at her feet. I trail my lips along the smooth warm skin of her shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent. My heart is in my throat as she steps out of her dress, still in her heels, and turns back to look up at me.

“Jesus Christ.” I slowly, reverently, skim my hands down her waist to rest on her hips. Her hair is a halo of gold around her heart-shaped face, her eyes glassy under dark lashes as she gazes up at me in her underwear and heels. She’s a fucking wet dream.

I take her mouth in a torturously slow kiss. My hands slide to her arms, gently lowering her backward. Then I step back to admire her, sitting on the end of my bed.

“This isn’t fair,” she complains, pointing at me, fully clothed. “You need to take something off.”

I grin, reaching behind my neck to pull my T-shirt over my head. It’s not like she hasn’t seen me shirtless before—I’d thoughtlessly peeled my wet shirt off the day we got caught in the rain—but she stares at me in delight like I’m the Rockefeller tree being unveiled. I can’t say I mind the way her eyes gobble me up, the soft hum that escapes her lips as she looks her fill.

But I’m getting impatient.

I kneel at her feet, undoing the straps of her shoes one by one and setting them aside. As sexy as it would be for her to leave them on, I can see them puncturing the air mattress and ruining the moment. Because no way will this be slow and gentle lovemaking. I’m going to ruin her. I’m going to fuck her so good she’ll never want another man again.

Christ. I shake my head to myself.What are you thinking?

But I know what I’m thinking. It’s what I’ve been thinking since I met her, whether I could admit it or not.

I sigh as I let my gaze sweep across her beautiful body; her soft curves, a freckle on her stomach I didn’t know was there, the skin of her thighs creamy and smooth in my hands as I part them and move between her knees. Her underwear is pale pink with tiny bows on it, one between her breasts, the other on the waistline of her panties, like she’s a present for me to unwrap. Except, instead of it being my birthday, it feels like I’ve won the damn lottery.

I slide my finger under the strap of her bra, frowning as I imagine Owen getting to undress her tonight instead of me. The thought makes me want to put my fist through the wall.

“I can’t believe you wore this for another man,” I growl.

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