Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lottie’s gaze lingered on Razor’s lips before drifting back to his smoldering, smoky eyes. Those dark depths seemed to draw her in, and she realized too late that she was leaning closer.
Razor caught the flicker of raw desire on her face.
He tugged her gently toward him, his hand gliding up her throat, thumb resting lightly on her pulse.
When he felt it race beneath his touch, a slow, knowing smile curved his lips.
His other hand slid into her hair, firm but unhurried as he guided her mouth down to meet his.
Razor could think of nothing else but the taste of her lips, the feel of her so close.
Lottie shifted, crawling onto his lap, her movements slow and deliberate.
His lips never left hers, their connection deepening with every passing moment.
One hand remained firm on her throat, his thumb grazing the rapid beat of her pulse as if anchoring her to him.
Lottie couldn’t help but think of the strength in his hands, yet she savored the way his touch against her throat felt both commanding and tender.
Razor’s thumb caressed the delicate rhythm of her pulse, sending shivers through her.
A soft moan escaped her lips as her body ached with a longing only he could ignite.
He made her hum, every nerve alive under his touch.
Tilting her head back, she felt his fingers slowly tug her blouse from her shoulders.
For a brief moment, she hesitated. But then his voice, low and soothing, whispered, “Shh.” His lips brushed against her collarbone, then her shoulder, each kiss dissolving her doubts.
His free hand slid to the small of her back, steadying her, holding her firmly against him as the world outside faded away.
Eventually, Razor guided her down beside him, his movements unhurried and deliberate. His lips found hers again, this time softer, slower, as if savoring every moment. His fingers traced a delicate path along her spine, their touch light and teasing, sending ripples of warmth through her.
Lottie relaxed into him, her breath mingling with his as the kiss deepened.
Razor’s fingers never stilled, tracing her spine in slow, mesmerizing patterns that sent tingles spreading through her body.
She leaned into his touch, her head resting lightly on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her.
The man had hands that were dangerous, strong, deliberate, and unrelenting. Yet, Lottie loved the way they held her, grounding her as if she might drift away without his touch. If only he’d get a move on. The slow, measured way he handled her was both thrilling and maddening.
She let him set the pace, knowing better than to push him.
The one time she’d tried to rush things, his reaction had been swift and firm, leaving no room for argument.
Razor wasn’t a man who liked being hurried; his intensity demanded patience, and Lottie wasn’t sure whether it drove her wild with frustration or desire.
His hand lingered at the small of her back, the weight of it both comforting and electrifying. When his lips returned to hers, the kiss was unhurried but deeply consuming, as if he intended to make her feel every second of it.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips, a teasing edge to his voice, as though he could sense her inner struggle. His thumb grazed her jawline, his dark eyes locking onto hers, daring her to challenge him.
Lottie swallowed her urge to roll her eyes and instead gave a small, breathy laugh. “You and your damn patience,” she said, her voice light but tinged with longing. “I don’t know whether to hate it or love it.”
Razor’s smirk was slow and knowing. “Maybe both,” he said, his hand tightening slightly at her waist. “But you’ll thank me later.”
As Razor’s lips trailed along the curve of her neck, down to the hollow of her collarbone, Lottie let out a soft, involuntary moan.
She felt the faint curve of his lips against her skin.
He was smiling, and the realization sent a shiver through her.
He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was reveling in every second of it.
His mouth and hands worked in tandem, driving her to the edge of reason.
One hand gripped her waist firmly, holding her in place, while the other explored her back, his touch alternating between soft and teasingly rough.
Lottie’s breath hitched as his lips lingered on a particularly sensitive spot, the heat of his breath adding to the ache building within her.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” she murmured, her voice barely audible through the haze of her desire.
Razor chuckled low against her skin, the sound vibrating through her. “And you’re not?” he replied, his tone wicked, his lips never straying far.
She opened her mouth to protest, but another gasp escaped her instead as his hand slid lower, his touch possessive yet unhurried. Her head tilted back instinctively, giving him better access, even as a small part of her simmered with impatience.
“Razor…” she breathed, her tone a mix of plea and warning.
He lifted his head just enough to meet her gaze, his smoky eyes filled with that maddening confidence. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice dark and steady as if daring her.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t.