Page 23 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

She giggled, and his eyes snapped open.

“You look absolutely terrified,” she said. “I won’t hurt you. Honest.” And she lowered her head and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and warm, and at the first touch, he shut the thinking parts of his brain down and gave in. Because he wanted this. Probably more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life before.

As he gave himself up to pure feeling, his nostrils filled with the sweet, sharp scent of the perfume on her skin. His hands had been limp at his side, but now they came to life with no instruction from his brain, just working on autopilot. He slid them up her back, over the smooth silk, feeling the hard curve of her spine, then down her sides to settle on the narrow curl of her hips and shift her closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and still she kissed him. He moved one hand to the back of her neck, sliding it beneath her damp hair to angle her head for his kiss, parting her lips, pushing his tongue inside. For a second, she went still. Then her soft tongue slid against his. She tasted exactly as he remembered, honey and citrus, and he deepened the kiss, taking control, his mouth hard against hers. Finally, they came up for air. She was breathing deeply, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the movement rubbing her hard little nipples against his chest.

He needed to feel her, skin on skin, and he leaned back a little so he could grab the bottom of his T-shirt and drag it over his head. He tossed it onto the floor.

Her gaze was fixed on his chest, and he took one of her hands and placed the palm flat against his skin.

Her eyes widened. “I can feel your heart.”

He grinned. “I bet you didn’t believe I had one.” His fingers played with the silk belt of the robe. One tug and she would be all but naked, straddling him. His dick throbbed and her eyes widened. But there was one thing he needed to say before they continued. He struggled to get the words out, because he had an idea they were going to be a real mood-breaker.

“Just one thing,” he said. “Before we go any further.”

At his serious tone, she leaned back a little so she could look into his face. Something flared in her eyes. “You’re not married, are you?”

He frowned. “No.”

“Engaged?”

“No. And no serious girlfriends.”

“What sort of man has unserious girlfriends?” She waved a hand. “Don’t answer that. You were saying…?”

“One thing before we go any further.” Though he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to stop now. All the same, it had to be said. “This isn’t fucking blackmail,” he growled. “Don’t wake up tomorrow and tell me I forced you to do this.”

Her eyes widened. She blinked a couple of times as if trying to make sense of his words. Then she nodded. “It’s not blackmail.”

“Are you just saying that because you’re desperate, and I’m the only man available?”

“Hah. In your dreams. I think you’ve forgotten Sam.”

“As I said—I’m the only man available.”

She pecked him on the cheek. “Of course you are. And I’m not desperate. And you’re not forcing me. Okay?” She raised a brow. “Can we move on now?”

“You’re impatient.”

“It’s been a while.”

Gripping her hips, he shifted her back slightly so he could see. Then, holding his breath, he tugged at the knot in the belt. It unraveled, and he parted the silk so it framed her breasts. They were full, round, perfectly formed above her narrow rib cage, the nipples pale pink and prominent. For long seconds, he stared, feeling the heat burn in his belly, his balls aching.

Lowering his head, he stroked his tongue over one hard nipple, then the other, nipping it with his teeth—so she gasped—then sucking it into his mouth. Her back arched, pushing into him, and she writhed on his lap.

He straightened, pushed the robe from her shoulders so it pooled on his knees. As he stroked a fingertip down her rib cage, her skin shivered beneath his touch. Her belly was almost concave—she definitely needed fattening up. Then his fingers moved lower, to ruffle the pale blond hair at the base of her belly.

He glanced up, stopped, enthralled by the look on her face. Her eyes were half closed, her lips slightly parted; a dull flush stained her cheekbones. He kept his attention on her face as he slipped his hand between her thighs, found the seam of her sex and slowly pushed between the folds.

“Christ,” he murmured.

At the words, her lids flew open.

“Sorry, but you are hot and wet and that is such a goddamn turn-on.”

He was so hard now; it bordered on painful. He had to make her come and preferably fast, because if he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to go seriously insane. Just one more touch. He loved the dazed expression in her eyes, as though he was the first person to give her pleasure.

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