Page 69 of Guarded from Havoc

Tate twines her arms around my neck as she kisses me back. Her kisses are hungry. Demanding. She makes those soft, sexy sounds in the back of her throat, humming with pleasure.

Once we reach the bedroom, I lay her down on the bed and give myself a few moments to absorb everything. To memorize the flush of her cheeks and the spill of her golden hair. Memorize her parted lips, rosy and swollen and damp. Commit to memory the sight of her luscious breasts, rising and falling with each breath, straining at the neckline of her dress.

I could spend hours just standing here, staring at her.

Although. I really,reallywant to do all the other things, too.

Tatum rises up on her elbows to look at me. Worry creases her forehead. “Did you change your mind? If you?—”

“Oh, no.” In one move, I yank my shirt over my head. Then I unfasten my pants and let them drop to the floor. “I most definitely did not change my mind. I was just looking at you. Thinking about how gorgeous you are.”

Her cheeks go pink. “I think you’re the gorgeous one. With all those… is that an eight pack? Or do I see ten?”

“I don’t know.” My voice dips to a growl. “Maybe you should count them yourself.”

Like a panther, I stalk towards her, climbing onto the bed and caging her in. I brace myself above her and start trailing a line of kisses down her neck. Then to her collarbone. To her delectable cleavage. To the satiny skin peeking out from her dress.

“Erik,” Tatum breathes. “Do you have any idea—” She gasps as I pull her dress down and close my mouth over a lace-covered nipple. Arching up towards me, she moans. Her nipple goes hard. I flick at it with my tongue, teasing it into a taut peak.

“Erik, oh—” But I cut her off again by taking her other nipple between my lips. Sucking at it. Laving. Stroking. Tasting.

I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my thirty-eight years. I’m desperate to be inside her. To feel her slick heat quivering and convulsing around me. To hear what she sounds like when she comes. See how she looks at that pinnacle of ecstasy.

Notching myself between her thighs, I can feel Tatum’s heat seeping into me. My erection throbs, growing thicker and more insistent. Even rubbing against her this way, still through layers of clothing, is enough to bring me close to the brink.

Tate lifts her legs and spreads them wider. Her skirt falls to her waist, revealing nearly transparent lace panties, damp with excitement.

I keep rubbing against her, and her legs fall apart even more. Her stomach muscles go tight. Her breath catches.

Then she sits up and pulls off her dress, leaving her in nothing but a pink lace bra and matching panties. “We have too many clothes on,” she explains. “I want to see you naked, so it only seems fair that I am, too.”

My gaze darts to the much-fantasized-about tattoos.

The little bird on her hip that I’m pretty sure is a loon, caught in mid-flight.

Delicate script along her ribcage, spelling out the wordsChris and Janewith little hearts at either end of them.

The third tattoo I can’t see yet. But I will. And I’ll kiss each one of them.

“Your briefs,” Tatum says, pointedly eyeing them.

I love how open she is to telling me what she wants. How she’s not afraid of showing her desire for me. It’s not surprising, though. Not given how strong she is.

I grin at her. “Didn’t I say I’d give you anything?”

She flashes me a matching smile. “So you did.” With a little spin of her finger, she adds, “So…”

In a blink, my briefs are added to the floor.

Then I undo her bra and send it flying after them. But her panties I take my time with, working them down her legs inch by inch, kissing my way after them.

And finally.

The most beautiful woman in the world lies bare in front of me.

Giving herself to me.

More questions are answered as I take her in once again.

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