Page 37 of Late to Love

He smirks.“I’ll be worshipping those soon enough. Lose the panties. Let me see that pussy.”

“You first.” I don’t know where the burst of bravery comes from, and I don’t care. I’m just glad it’s shown up.

His eyes twinkle. “You wanna see what I’m working with, Little Girl?”

I nod, my mouth dry.

“Eyes on my cock, then.” He issues the demand, then slides the fabric off.

Oh,fuck. “Jesus.”

“The name is Anthony. If you call anyone’s name, it’s mine.” Then he chuckles darkly. “Or Daddy, of course.”

I nod mutely. He’s fucking huge. I mean, his whole body is huge, and I’d figured he’d be…big…but this is a whole other level of big. His hand grabs a hold of the shaft, wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a pump. I swallow. I might whimper, I don’t know.

“Now, take your panties off.” His voice is gruff, as though he’s making an effort to speak.

And when I look up, sure enough, everything in his expression tells me he’s doing everything he can to control himself. The cords of his neck strain, his shoulders are taut, and his entire body seems primed to attack.

Immediately I go hot, my already heated core going molten with desire. It’smehe wants to attack.

I tuck my fingers into the pale pink cotton fabric and raise my hips to slide them down, watching his face the entire time. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes never leave my body. When I discard them, he speaks.

“Spread your legs, Darcy. Show me what I get to taste.”

My God, this man. Pulse racing, my breath coming in pants, I let my knees fall apart.

It’s terrifying. In all my times with other men, none have lingered on any part of me. Sex has been simply serviceable. With the exception of that night on the beach, I’ve never come except by my own ministrations, and no one has actually done what he seems primed to do.

“Look at you,” he says. “So beautiful. Wet and glistening, just for me.” His eyes roam lazily from my core up to my breasts before meeting my eyes. “I bet you taste as good as you smell.”

I hitch a breath, not knowing how to act or what to say.

He growls, the sound one of deep satisfaction as he puts his other knee on the bed and lowers down, crawling to me on the mattress. I clench my fists as he moves slowly, his eyes surveying every inch of me as he moves.

My thoughts spiral.I should have shaved my legs. When was the last time I trimmed my pussy? This was a bad idea. I’m out of my league.

“Tell me something.”

His words snap me back to reality. To the fact of him hovering above me, his hazel eyes searching my face as his immense body blocks out the light. A lock of brown hair flops over his forehead, giving him a rakish look. “Is there anything you like or don’t like?” The tone is gentle, probing.

How in the ever-loving hell would I know the answer to that?

He frowns slightly. “Darcy?”

“I—I don’t know,” I finally answer. “No one’s ever asked, and I…”

The smile he gives is dazzling, throwing me completely off-guard. “Then I guess I’m the lucky bastard who gets to find out.” He lowers himself down to me, and I nearly pass out at the feel of him, the weight of his body on top of mine, at the hardness of his hips and cock nestled against my soft curves.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you don’t like something,” he presses.

I nod, wrapping my arms around his back. “I promise.”

He takes my mouth with his own, his tongue controlling every stroke, heating me back up from the momentary detour my own thoughts had led me down. His hand clasps my breast and squeezes, and I moan as his lips trail a hot, open-mouthed path down my neck and to my other breast. His mouth closes over my nipple, and I arch into him, writhing at the sensations flooding my body.

His hips thrust gently between my legs, and I scrape my nails down his back, thrilling at the answering hum he gives in response. In no time, we’re a tangled mess of mouths and limbs, stroking, squeezing, moaning.

He slides down my chest and belly, kissing, touching, learning my curves with an enthusiasm I have never felt. When his head is between my thighs, his eyes close and he breathes me in. “You smell so fucking good, Darcy.”

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