Page 135 of The One
I wind one arm around his waist, the other reaching up to cup his cheek, my fingers brushing softly against his skin.
“What if I like it all pink?” I joke, not really meaning it.
Mateo’s face falls, and I bite back a grin.
“Okay,” he amends quickly, recovering, “let me rephrase. We can change it to something webothlike.”
I’m so glad he said that. The thought of him changing for me? I don’t want that. I love him exactly as he is.
Staring up into his beautiful brown eyes, I pull his face closer.
“I like it. It’s warm and welcoming and much cozier than I expected.”
Then I let my lips speak for me. He responds instantly, taking control in seconds, and I lose myself in the way his lips move with mine.
Oh, this man can kiss!
My arms loop around his neck, and my body presses against him instinctively.
I need to be closer to him, have his skin against mine.
So I slide my hands underneath his suit jacket, and Mateo’s muscles tense beneath my touch, a slight shiver running through his body.
Wow. I affect him. My touch affects him.
On my knees with his cock in my mouth I can understand, but just touching his shoulders through fabric?
I glide my fingers over him and push the jacket off. It falls in a heap on the floor.
The fabric of his business shirt is surprisingly soft, but that’s not what I focus on. Even through the cotton, I can feel his hard muscles, and it makes my fingers itch to caress the warmth of his skin.
As we kiss, my fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt.
God, why are there so many? And why are they so damn small?
I let out a low growl of frustration, and Mateo’s lips curve into a smile against mine. It doesn’t change anything though.
He still doesn’t help and continues to devour my mouth with all the time in the world, as I struggle until the very last button is undone. Only then does he let go of my lips and nuzzles his nose against mine as we both draw in ragged breaths.
His fingers trail to my back, effortlessly finding the zipper of my dress. With steady, practiced ease, he slides it down. A gentle tug, and the dress slips from my body, pooling at my feet in a sparkly heap.
I stand there in nothing but my lingerie and heels, vulnerable and tantalized all at once. Nobody has ever seen me like this. Mateo is the first.
Does he like what he sees?
Do I measure up to the beauties he normally takes to bed?
My insecurities roar to life, but his hands holding mine are an anchor, grounding me even as my heart thumps erratically in my chest.
When he steps back slightly and his gaze sweeps over me, all I want to do is grab the dress from the floor, or shield my body with my hands.
But his grip, though gentle, is firm, silently urging me to let him see me completely.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
His eyes brim with adoration that steals the breath from my lungs.
“Teo,” I moan, his words making me blush.
