Page 141 of Faking the Pass
“Yeah Starfish?”
“I want you to make love to me.”
Chapter 33
Unfinished Business
Rosie
My heart thundered wildly, waiting for his response.
I didn’t have to wait long.
With an urgent, growling sound, Presley dropped his mouth to mine and kissed me. Deeply, seriously, the way he had at the gala, but this time there was real intention behind it—and there was no crowd of onlookers.
It was just me and my husband, our private hotel room, and several weeks’ worth of unfinished business.
He’d already loosened the Cinderella dress, and now he peeled it from my body, leaving me only in my corset and thong.
“Thisis what you were wearing all night?” he asked in an awed tone as he pushed up to his knees to get a better view. “It’s a good thing I didn’t know or we wouldn’t have lasted thirty minutes there.”
I laughed, stretching my arms up to him.
“If you’d told me that high school story was true earlier, I would have draggedyouout of there after fifteen. I had no idea you were that into me back then.”
Presley grinned, bending down for a kiss. “I should make confessions more often.”
Then he reclined on his side so he could browse my body with his hand while kissing my neck. He traced the top edge of the corset with his fingertips, skating them oh so close to my nipples, which were barely contained by the corset cups.
“I wassointo you,” he murmured close to my ear. “I plan to get even more into you now… as often as you’ll let me.”
His hand wandered down the front of the corset, over my stomach, and delved into the wetness between my legs. Heat blasted through me, though I was already beyond hot for him.
It was so good to be with him like this again. So, so good.
His touch was like standing close to a bonfire that was being fed fresh wood. Sparks flew and swirled and crackled throughout my body.
I turned my face so our mouths met, and as we kissed, I pushed up into his hand, making needy little noises that might have embarrassed me if I wasn’t so desperate—and if I couldn’t tell how hungry they made him.
I liked Presley hungry.
Correction—lovedhim this way.
I loved the feel of his hands and his mouth, the sexy growling noises he made, the look of adoration and molten heat in his eyes as he stroked me into a frenzy.
Shifting to lower his head over my chest, his long body, still clad in the frilly shirt and those damned porno-breeches pressed harder against my side.
The blue silk did nothing to disguise his enormous erection digging into my thigh.
As he swept his tongue beneath the corset’s top edge and continued to rub intimate circles with his hand, I reached my own hand down and found the front of him, gripping the outline of his hard-on through the thin material.
He let out a groan that wasthesexiest sound I’d ever heard.
The evidence of his extreme arousal made me wild with excitement.
All of that wasmine. He was mine.
He lifted his mouth long enough to say, “Fuck that feels good,” before licking my breast again in just the way I liked it.
