If kisses were medicine, then his busy lips would have healed the most desperate of conditions as he covered her poor, bruised joint with the drugging caresses of his talented mouth.
Everything he was doing was deliberate and unhurried. Where one meaningful kiss would have been enough to communicate a desire to make her feel better, he countered with a masterful ambush of her senses that left Paige floundering. She was soaking wet and wanted to scream at him to touch her, but all she managed was a desperate croak followed by another moan of pleasure.
“Stand up,” he demanded as her legs lowered back to the floor.
Was he kidding? Stand up? She barely had control over her body at this point, and standing didn’t seem like much of a possibility.
“Can’t,” she groaned when nothing worked. Her arms were useless and legs felt like jelly.
“Yes, you can,” he commanded firmly.
When she just whimpered and barely moved, he put a hand behind her back to urge her up. The help was great but only went so far.
With a meaningful snicker, his other hand slipped between her legs, cupped her mound, and then leveraged her lower body upward with a push that made his hand grind against her already sensitized flesh.
When she was on her feet, Paige involuntarily pressed her thighs together in an attempt to quiet the craving making her quiver. She didn’t miss the satisfied smile or hoarse grunt that gave away his pleased reaction to her response.
Sitting back on his haunches, he let her see his pleasure as he looked at her trembling body.
Smiling, he leaned forward and kissed her belly right above the elastic of her sensible undies.
“The top has to go,” he grunted then crossed his arms and waited.
Pulling a t-shirt off shouldn’t have been such an undertaking, but with her hands trembling like crazy and her brain muddied by the look of scorching desire in Edward’s gaze, Paige fumbled like a toddler, barely managing to haul the top over her head.
The way he devoured her with just a look came as a surprise. It was not as if she was dressed to thrill in some sexy lace and silk. Quite the contrary, in fact. The secret thrill that had started another heated gush came from seeing his expression turn lusty at the sight of her in the most boring underwear of all time. A plain, sexless, gray sports bra and some undies that were just this side of granny pants.
“Tits first.”
She didn’t pretend not to recognize a command when she heard one. She peeled the soft cotton off her modest breasts and flung it aside. The truth was, most of the time she could get away without wearing a bra, but that didn’t mean she had some secret yearning for more voluptuous boobs. Not at all.
Paige was one of those women who didn’t give a flying fart what others thought, a trait she’d inherited from her grandmother. She was comfortable in her skin—quite glad, in fact, that she’d always been a bit of a tomboy. Despite a lackluster romantic history, she was unashamed of being naked when the situation called for bare skin.
When she’d exposed her breasts to his gaze, she stood proudly, chest out, shoulders back, and waited for his reaction. In no way was she bummed out when it came.
“Paige Turner,” he drawled with a sly grin. “You have the most delectable nipples I’ve ever seen …”
“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted with an answering smile. “And you’ve seen a lot. I know.”
He wagged his eyebrows at her, made a comical face, and flicked his tongue out for emphasis.
“What can I say? I was a breastfed baby, after all.”
“I’ll be sure to thank your mom next time I talk to her.”
Instead of laughing at her jest, he gave her a comically stern looking frown and grumbled, “Stop stalling, woman.”
She froze. Stalling?
Nodding, he used his head to indicate the only article of clothing she still wore.
“Panties. Off.”
She hesitated, bit her lip, and then morphed into turbo mode, whipping the plain cotton off in a single motion. Before she’d tossed her panties next to her other clothes, he took them from her hands and buried his nose in the wad of cotton.
When his eyes lifted to hers, she looked away, embarrassed. No way was he going to miss the scent of her arousal.
“Oh, fuck no, babe. Look at me. Now.”
Usually confident, it wasn’t exactly comfortable to be standing there naked while the man of her dreams inhaled proof of her unwavering desire. For him. Only for him.
“Eyes on me.”
Still, she hesitated.
“I gave you a command,” he murmured in a voice that did not invite any comeback.
A command. Uh-oh. What the hell had she gotten herself into?
Paige swung her eyes to his, but instead of seeing triumph in his expression, she found something else. Besides the excitement, she saw understanding and maybe a touch of amusement.
Why, he knew that how quickly her body surrendered to his passion would embarrass her! Wow. She’d never felt more … female. Or more sexual and maybe, just maybe, for the first time, those two things were one and the same.
With a smug expression he knew damn well would get a reaction from her on general principle alone, he held up her discarded undies and gave them a little twirl around his finger. She gave him a scorching look that only made him laugh.
“Rule number one, Miss Turner. Your eyes belong to me. That means glasses off when I say, and you never try to hide from something by looking away.”
What was she supposed to say to that? No? Sorry? Screw you?
“Edward …”
“Nah, nah, nah,” he stated firmly. “I’m not finished.”
Was she in some weird alternate reality? What was happening here? Good lord, she was butt-ass naked while he was fully dressed and on his knees. Not only that, but he was also laying out some rules that ordinarily would have made her laugh in his face. Instead, she stood there meekly as if any of this was normal.
Pfft. Normal! There was no more normal.
“I want you to stand there and not be shy about letting me see your beautiful body.”
Her cheeks felt like they were warming up.
He crossed his arms again and laid on the stern Alpha thing kinda thick.
“And so you don’t misunderstand … your pleasure is priority one. Don’t hide it from me because you’re embarrassed. I want you to be swollen with desire and dripping wet before we touch. Consider that rule number two.”