Page 46 of The Science of Attraction

He surprised me by stepping in and kissing me long and slow until my toes curled. “I’m going to do my very best to be as much trouble as I can possibly be.”

I smirked and kissed him back. “Now there’s a challenge I can get on board with. Come on.” I tried to pull him down onto the bed, but he resisted.

“Not yet. I haven’t finished looking at you.”

He took my hand and lifted it in the air. “Come on. Give me a spin.”

And fuck me if I didn’t do just that—twirled like a schoolgirl going to prom, nodding cock be damned. It was a first for me.Kill me now.How exactly he’d done it, I didn’t know, but somehow the tables had been turned and it was me feeling like the first-timer, blushing furiously, and wanting nothing more than to be safely hidden under a sheet and away from those hot, hot eyes that were eating up my skin.

I’d always been proud of my body and mostly didn’t give a fuck what people thought of some of my softer lines. I kept healthy and fit, but I didn’t do six-packs or wasted hours in the gym. But right then, as Jules’ gaze travelled my body, that confidence inexplicably faltered, and I realised with a jolt that I desperately wanted this man to like what he saw. Toreallylike it.

It was a red, red flag. The reddest. And I ran past it like it wasn’t even there.

His gaze met mine once again. “I can’t stop saying it. You’re so beautiful.” He hesitated. “And then there’s me. Pale Irish skin, thin, and with not a lot of spare time to work out.”

Huh.I fought back a smile. So, it wasn’t just me. That had to mean something, right?

I stepped in and ran my tongue up his sternum to the dip in his neck. “Feel that.” I pressed my hard dick against his thigh and he groaned. “You are absolutely fucking gorgeous. Every centimetre of this luscious white skin and hard muscle does it for me. You’re lean-muscled, not thin, and all of it turns me the fuck on. So, how about we get on that bed and you can have your wicked way with me?” I waggled my brows as saucily as I could manage. “Touch. Explore. Lick. Anything you want. Anyhow. Anyway. I’m all yours. You’re in charge for as long as you want...thistime.”

He snorted. “Why do I get the feeling that’s less of an assurance and more of a warning?”

I ran my hands over the hard planes of his quivering stomach, my teeth finding a patch of skin to worry just above his left nipple.

His head dropped back and he arched into me. “Ow, fuck, Jesus, why does that feel so good?”

I let him go, soothing the angry mark with a swipe of my tongue. “You like that?”

His eyes danced over my face. “Apparently, yes. You’re a bossy fucker, aren’t you?”

I grinned and pushed him gently down onto the bed. “Guilty as charged. I’m up for most things in the bedroom but being in controlismy sweet spot. And that’s probably something you should know about me. Not too late to back out.”

He grinned. “I’m not going anywhere.” And I didn’t miss the flash of something that looked an awful lot like relief.

I wanted to tell him that I could do that for him. For a short time, I could lift all that responsibility. He could lose himself in his feelings, in his heart. He could let his body fly. He wouldn’t have to think or plan or wonder. When he walked into this space, intomyarms, I would take care of him. I wanted to.

But he wasn’t ready, not yet.

He studied me from the bed, pupils blown to hell, a tiny vertical crease of concentration notched between his brows. Watching. Learning. Gloriously spread out across my sheets, light and shadow playing over the tempting lines of his torso, sliding around the curves of his slim hips, dancing over the soft curls of hair on his chest to highlight the ragged in and out of his breathing.

I kissed my way up his body while carefully avoiding his briefs. And when I reached his mouth, I sank my cock lightly on top of his and slipped my tongue inside his mouth.

He groaned in pleasure, his hands sliding around my waist to pull me flush, my dick grinding on his as we took the kiss deeper. No rush, just a leisurely slip and slide of tongues and lips, delving and tasting and getting to know one another.

Hot hands wandered my body, clasped my arse, slid up my back.

I rolled us onto our sides and relaxed, letting him take charge to run this show however he wanted.

“Play with me.” I breathed the words into his open mouth and he pulled back just enough to warm me with the biggest smile.

He hitched a leg over my hip to hold me in place and then he was there, all of him, hot and needy, his hard cock stabbing into my stomach, leaving no question that he was as into this as I was. And with that, the seed of doubt I hadn’t realised I was still harbouring finally evaporated, and I gave in to the pleasure brewing in my body.

“I can’t believe I finally get to touch you, to have you.” Jules ran a slow hand down my throat and along the slope of my shoulder, before sliding it over my ribs. “I’ve fantasised about this moment for weeks.” His fingers feathered across my quaking belly and down my thighs, arousal sparking like fireworks over my skin.God almighty. When he finally got to my cock, I was going to be in big trouble.

Which reminded me—I snapped the elastic on his briefs and arched a questioning brow. “You’re a little overdressed.”

He hesitated just long enough for me to know he was still pretty nervous before taking a deep breath and kicking his briefs aside.

The sight was worth all the waiting as his thick cock bobbed free, a wide vein tracking its length to a ruddy head, a single pearl of pre-come forming on the slit. Saliva pooled in my mouth and it was all I could do not to dip down for a taste.

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