He stood back and his gaze roamed down her once more, taking in her breasts, her curves, her legs, as slowly and as devoutly as a connoisseur of the Old Masters might inspect the Mona Lisa. It was an intimate inspection that made her burn, until she was more than ready to take or be taken. But she had a suspicion that this time, hard and fast was not an option.
Unless she forced the issue, which she was more than a little inclined to do. While logically she knew it was impossible for someone to physically explode with lust, that's exactly what she thought might happen if she didn't get some serious loving sooner rather than later.
"Glorious," he whispered, his gaze rising to hers again.
"Absolutely glorious."
His words made her heart do strange things. Glorious was not a word she would have used to describe herself, but she certainly loved the way the word sounded on his lips. Loved the way he looked at her as he said it.
Somehow, she found the strength to say, "Equality of the sexes is law rather than an option these days. I demand equal ogling time."
He smiled. "I stripped you, so you should return the favor."
No one this sexy had to suggest that twice. She closed the brief distance between them and slid her hands under his sweater. His skin was hot against her palms, his muscles well defined. The sweater bunched against her forearms as she reached his chest, then his shoulders, the wool smelling of masculinity and raw desire. He raised his arms, helping her only when their height difference meant she couldn't tug the sweater free. He tossed it into the corner with her dress as she skimmed her hands back down his chest and washboard abs. Her fingers hit the button on his jeans, the cool metal a sharp contrast against the heat of his skin. Her skin.
She raised her gaze to his as she slowly undid the button and slid down the zipper, watching his pupils expand with desire, until the black had almost covered the storm clad gray.
Hooking her thumbs under the elastic of his shorts, she pushed them and his jeans down his legs with the same sort of agonizing slowness he'd used when he'd been admiring her. Which left her at eye level with his cock. He was thick and hard, and she couldn't wait to get him inside. To feel that hardness probing deep.
But there was some tasting to be done first.
After tossing aside his jeans and shorts, she placed butterfly kisses on both his thighs then ran her tongue across the base of his penis. He jumped, ever so slightly, and his soft groan was both a sound of sheer pleasure and an encouragement to do more.
She smiled and licked her way up and down his shaft, occasionally taking in his balls, enjoying his groans of pleasure, the way his cock leapt, as if straining to reach the warm wetness of her own desire. But she wasn't ready to offer him that yet, simply because he wasn't yet as ready as she to explode. So she laved her tongue back up, and swirled her lips around the tip of him before fully taking him into her mouth.
He thrust in response, his body shaking with the effort of restraint as she rolled her tongue around him, alternately tasting and sucking. His movements were becoming more urgent, the salty taste of him beginning to seep into her mouth, telling her he was close to the edge. But she didn't let him cross it, pulling back instead.
"Tease," he whispered thickly. "Perhaps you need some of your own medicine."
"What I need is you inside, right now."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and clambered up his body, positioning herself above him, then driving him deep. It felt like she was driving hot iron right through the very heart of her. Damn, it was so good.
He shuddered, his body responding instinctively, thrusting hard. Then he growled deep and slid his hands to her waist, determinedly pulling her off and placing her back on her feet.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. It whispered across her cheeks as warmly as sin.
"Hard and fast is not going to make you yodel."
She grasped his cock, sliding her hand up and down, teasing him, caressing him. Wanting him to ache as fiercely as she ached. "Right now, I'll settle for simple satisfaction."
He pulled her hand away. "Damn it, woman, I want the whole night, not an hour. It's yodeling or nothing."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're willing to let me walk out that door right now? Let me find someone else who'll give me what I want?"
"No, I am not." He placed several fingers between her breasts, and gently propelled her backwards. "We had a deal, and you will hold to your side of it."
The backs of her knees hit the side of the bed. He gave her a sexy grin and lightly pushed, so that she fell backwards, then added, "You will yodel before the hour is up."
She arched an eyebrow, a smile teasing her lips. "I don't yodel for just anyone, you know."
"I'm not just anyone." He reached for the bottle of massage oil on the bedside table and flipped the top off. The rich smell of honey and citrus tantalized her senses. "Scoot up the bed and roll over."
She obeyed, her heart tripping so hard it would surely jump out of her chest any minute now. Having this man's hands on her was the closest thing to heaven she could have imagined. Heaven itself would be having him inside, thrusting deep and hard, but he seemed determined to draw this out as long as possible. Which she didn't really mind, despite all her protests.
"But you are just anyone, because I know nothing about you."
He knelt at the end of the bed, poured a large dollop of oil into his hands, and rubbed them together. "There's nothing much to tell."
Somehow, she very much doubted that. This man had as many secrets as his gray eyes had shades. "So you have no existence outside the realm of this club?"
His voice held an odd edge of bitterness. "You could say that. Close your eyes."
She did. He didn't start with her feet, as she'd half expected him to, but her upper legs. His big hands pressing and caressing her thighs, his thumbs scooting along the inside of her leg, teasing her, driving her insane with desire.
Her sigh was a thick sound of pleasure and frustration combined.
Yet as much as she'd have loved to simply lay there and enjoy his touch, she couldn't. She was here to question this man, and she had to keep trying to do that, even through the erotic assault on her senses.
"You implied that you're rich. Considering money has never fallen off trees, you must do something to get it."
"My family was wealthy. I inherited it."
The warm scent of honey and citrus curled through the air, arousing her senses almost as much as the steady, teasing closeness of his fingers. But somehow she retained enough presence of mind to continue the conversation. "So your parents are dead?"
He nodded, something she oddly felt rather than saw.
"Ages ago."
"In an accident?"
"No, murdered."
His touch lightly skimmed her vagina, teasing her from behind. She shuddered, and somehow resisted the urge to press into his fingers, to shift and make them slide deep inside, to where it ached so very badly. She licked her lips and, voice croaky with desire, said, "Oh. Sorry."
He didn't reply to that, just began working his way up her butt and across her back. Part of her mourned the loss of his touch further down, but his fingers were weaving such a spell that it felt as if she was walking a tightrope above a whirlpool of desire. A rope that was threatening to give way at any moment and plunge her headfirst into those glorious waters.
She wanted to drown in those waters. Just wanted to lay here and enjoy his touch and his presence. Instead, she asked, "Then what do you actually do?"
"Nothing terribly important."
She opened an eye and gave him a mock glare. "I'd really like to know a bit more about the man who intends to make me yodel."
His soft chuckle shivered across her skin and made her heart do strange little turns. "Who I am is not important.