Chapter 9 #2
Her cool fingers slid to the side of his neck as she drew her thigh over his hips to straddle him. Air rushed from his lungs. He brought his hands to her thighs and wished like hell she had less clothing on.
She pinned her hands to the pillow next to his head. “Is this okay?” she asked hesitantly.
He glided his palms over her hips and to her waist. “It’s fucking perfect.”
A shy smile played at her mouth. He wanted to see more of her, to turn on the bedside lamp, but he also didn’t want to stop. Moonlight would have to do.
She swept her tongue over her bottom lip, her mouth so close to his he could take her if he wanted. If she wanted.
Every muscle in his body was wound tighter than a metal coil. His blood pressure hit a dangerous level, his veins ready to burst with need.
If he didn’t get her naked, he’d go into cardiac arrest. “Molly,” he ground out, needing some kind of green light.
She brought her lips to his, featherlight.
Her scent—vanilla and cinnamon—flooded his nostrils, teasing him. Desire muddled his brain. Now was their last chance to back out.
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You need to tell me what you want, honey. I can’t guess right now.”
She chuckled. “Am I leaving room for guesswork? Because that’s not my intention.”
He smiled despite the ache in his balls. “How ’bout you talk to me like I’m stupid so there’s no misunderstanding.”
She snorted. “Oh geez. Sounds like you’re interested.” She began to inch away.
He caught her waist before she could spill off his lap. “Hang on a damn minute. You’re forgetting how I found you just last night. How hurt you were—still are. And now look what just happened. It’s not that I don’t want you, Mol. It’s that I want to make sure you’re in this for the right reasons.”
Her eyes grew large, and if the lighting were better, he was sure he’d find them glassy. “I feel safe with you, Atlas. If there’s one thing I’ve learned these last couple of weeks, it’s that I should never take time for granted.”
His heart wrenched. “If that’s what you need right now, to feel something, I’ve got you.”
“Please,” she whispered, her voice small.
And goddammit, the last of his restraint snapped. He sat up, bringing their bellies together, her legs still draped over his lap. He lifted the T-shirt—his—that she wore over her head.
Her long locks fell over her shoulders and cascaded around her pert, high breasts. He cupped the supple flesh, and her pink nipples grew taut. He swept his thumb over one of the pebble-hard tips, stirring a moan from her lips.
Molly dropped back her head, and he drank in every luscious curve. Lowering his face, he pulled her nipple between his lips. Her breath came out in fast pants. He licked from one breast to the other and she jerked, her hand shooting to grab his neck, holding him in place.
Christ, he needed more.
Shifting to the side, he lowered her to the mattress. She stared up at him, her lips trembling and her eyes heavy-lidded. He hooked his fingers in her joggers and tugged them down.
Black lace panties covered her sex. His mouth watered. Jesus, he’d never wanted a woman so badly in his life. He tossed the joggers to the floor and spread his hands on her knees, easing them open.
Her legs quivered. He wanted her sleek thighs latched on to him, his cock buried in her sex. He could almost smell her musky heat, and his brain fizzled with hunger.
“You next,” she said, kicking gently at his pants.
“If I get naked, this is gonna end way too fast.”
She flashed a salacious grin. “I won’t complain.”
Shifting to lie between her thighs, he nuzzled her abdomen. “I will.”
He curled his pinkie into the center strip of her panties, pulling the material aside. Her fingers landed on his shoulders.
He kissed the inside of her leg. Her pussy glistened, wet and waiting. Glancing up the length of her body, he watched her chest rise and fall. Her free hand twisted in the covers and her face was locked on the ceiling.
Tense.
That wasn’t how he wanted her.
“Molly.” Command rode on the tantalizing syllables of her name.
She started, then dipped her chin to look at him, her face tight and her hair messy against the pillow. “Yes,” she squeaked.
He fought a smile. She looked so damn innocent, as if she’d never fucking had a guy chillin’ face-first between her legs. He stroked his fingers over the ridges of her flesh.
“Ohmigod.” She withered, twisting her hand further into the blanket.
He froze. “Is this the first time . . .”
She wet her lips, then shook her head. “No. It’s just—” He stroked her again, this time dipping inside her. She gasped. “Been a very long time.”
Well, hell. He had questions about that, but he’d save those for later. “Just relax, Molly. I want you to enjoy this, not have a heart attack.”
She curled further into the pillow. “Sorry.”
He pushed onto his arms and stretched over her body but didn’t lie on top of her. With his hands braced above her shoulders, he bit back a growl. “Don’t ever apologize, Molly. You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.”
Some of the tension left her face, but she rolled her lips together. “Okay.”
Dammit, had he fucked this up? He didn’t want to be an ass, but he also didn’t want her to think he was just here to get laid. Gently, he cupped her jaw and lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her leisurely, stroking his tongue into her mouth.
With that one kiss, all her unease seemed to melt away. She slithered her hands under his shirt and toyed with his abs. His tongue melded with hers, both of them licking as if they were fucking starving.
“Atlas,” she said between kisses. “I want you.”
“Good, ’cause I want you, too. Shaking and coming, preferably.”
She laughed. The sound was light and carefree. “Sounds good to me.”
He kissed her lips one last time before traveling south, sliding his mouth down past her navel.