“I think I feel cheated.” He grinned wickedly down at her. “I’m doing all the work and some vibrator is getting all the glory.”
With his strong fingers still on her chin, Chase carefully brought his mouth down to brush against her neck, just below her ear.
“No toys needed.” Amanda swooned, her eyelids heavy. His fingertips left her face and began to trace a path down the front of her jersey. Her hands ran up the solid wall of his chest before coming to rest on his granite shoulders.
He grunted in approval, his lips traveling farther down her neck and his hand to her jeans. He unbuttoned them without her even noticing. She barely heard her zipper going down. She was lost in the sensations of his mouth on her skin. It was all she could do to remain standing. Despite the size of his hand, he was able to nimbly and easily dip it inside her panties. Her breath quickened and her grip on him tightened. As soon as he heard her tiny moan of appreciation at his intrusion, he drove his thick middle finger inside her and exhaled a groan of his own.
“Shit, I wish I could kiss you,” he murmured into her neck as he began to move his finger in and out of her slowly, his hand snug within her silk and lace.
“Me, too.” Amanda nearly cried in frustration, squirming into him. Her lip was no longer the only thing throbbing. In fact, it paled by comparison. She tried to bring his head down to her mouth. “I don’t care.”
He pulled his head from her grasp to look down at her.
“But I do, angel,” he told her, carefully kissing the corner of her mouth while his finger continued its torment. It tickled at her soul while his other fingers toyed with the velvet lining that surrounded her. It soon left her witless. With the whispery pant of his name from her, Chase realized his wait was over. No ifs, ands, or busted lips, he was going to claim her as his own, once and for all.
His free hand moved to the small of her back, just in time to steady her as her knees started wobbling. They buckled completely when he abruptly withdrew from her. He caught her, lifted her, and raced the short distance to her bedroom, depositing her on the bed. He quickly removed his own shirt and unzipped his pants while kicking off his shoes. With the slacks open and slung low on his hips, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. From inside it, he took out a condom and held it up.
“Amanda,” he said in a rush, “I use one of these every time. I don’t want to use one now. I promise I’m disease-free. Are you protected and safe, and do you trust me?” Chase didn’t actually care if she was protected or not. He couldn’t think of anything he’d like better than holding the shotgun at the wedding. He didn’t really care if she was safe, either; the seed had already been planted in his mind that he’d be willing to die for her. But her trusting him meant everything.
From the middle of her bed, Amanda tried to concentrate on what he was saying because his tone was certainly compelling. But seeing him for the first time without his shirt was fueling her already overloaded senses. She had seen multiple pictures of him shirtless when she did her research; the spread from Fitness magazine instantly crossed her mind, followed by the same lust-producing chill. She saw his abs and pecs in at least one commercial for a well-known sports company. He didn’t need Photoshop to do any of it justice. He was beyond splendid. Hulking and muscular, he was tan and defined and smooth, except for the appealing pattern of light hair that started on his chest. It narrowed down his solid belly in an inviting path to the elastic waistband of his designer boxer briefs. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from them, until she noticed them swell further, fine baby blue cotton straining against the still-half-closed fly of his black, tailor-made Armani trousers, a tidbit of information she obtained courtesy of an extensive article in GQ. When it dawned on her that she was gawking at his arousal, she brought her eyes swiftly back up to his. They were smoldering and serious and waiting with hard-won patience for her answer. What was the question again? Her gaze shifted briefly to his raised hand, then back to his face, and she wordlessly nodded. He tossed the condom and his wallet in the direction of his discarded shirt. He pulled at her jeans, and in one fluid motion, they and her panties were off, like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from under a completely set table. But he wasn’t ready to see her out of his shirt, not yet anyway. She wore his brand so well. He joined her on the bed, unbuttoning her jersey without taking it off. He kissed her just above her navel while his hand took full advantage of no longer having to work around her panties. Chase lingered there, the sound of her breathless pleasure music to his ears. Her hands ran along his back, and her nails tickled him. She was sweet and soft; everything he had convinced himself was worth waiting for. But he was finished with waiting. His lips finally moved upward only to meet up with her bra. In a quick, efficient motion, the bra was unhooked and he pushed it aside to allow himself access to her generous breasts. He kissed each one and his fingertips toyed with hard, responding nipples. She moaned and his erection raged within his clothing. He stood up, encouraged by her involuntary sigh at his withdrawal and he quickly finished stripping down. The time to get her fully exposed had arrived.
Amanda sighed again, but this time in full appreciation. Any further comparisons to him resembling a Ken doll were permanently put to rest; Chase Walker was completely in proportion. She reached out, hungry for him to return and resume all the amazing ways he made her feel when he touched her most intimate places. He rejoined her and began peeling off her jersey.
“Ouch,” she whimpered when she couldn’t resist and her lips made contact with his jawline.
He instantly stopped and pulled back briefly, admonishing her with look.
“Boy, are you stubborn,” he said, his voice raspy with passion. “Not on my watch.” He finished removing her shirt and lingerie, gently turned her over onto her stomach, and took a moment to feel the rush.
He thought he had seen the best backsides the world had to offer. But he wasn’t prepared for the sight. Her cheeks were smooth and plump, feeding into curvaceous legs. He stared, captivated, his neurons firing full throttle as he envisioned all the sounds they and she would make as he ministered to them.
Amanda had turned into one raw nerve ending. She wanted him—no, needed him. It was as intense as the desire to kiss him was. The ache to feel his hands on her again, the ache to experience everything he had and everything he was. She needed all of him. It began to wane as seconds dragged on while he denied her and was then followed by a moment of gut-wrenching clarity. She peered over her shoulder at him from the pillows, suddenly wishing she could cover up. He was no longer turned on.
“You think I’m fat, don’t you?”
Chase wasted no time lying alongside her, covering half her body with half of his own, pinning her beneath him. She didn’t fight it; instead lowering her head back onto the pillow and facing the wall, his warm, hard muscles against her back and shoulder acting like a blanket. He ran his large strong hand from her leg and over her bottom, slowly dipping into the indentation at her waist, along her rib cage and under her breast, then down her arm before settling possessively on top of hers, separating her fingers with his own. With his mouth less than an inch from her ear, he meaningfully whispered.
“Please listen carefully, Amanda, because I intend to explain this only once. You take my breath away, as much right now as the first time I saw you. And now I’m seeing all of you, so you can imagine how hard it is for me breathe. I am almost six and a half feet tall. On a good day, I’m pushing two hundred and sixty pounds. My ego does not require I have a girlfriend half my size to make me a bigger man. I am already a monster. I do not want or need a woman I can bench-press. I prefer a woman of substance, with softness and curves. One I know is able to handle my passion, one that can nurture my babies. I have no desire to bang into your bones when I take you, which I am most certainly going to do, and soon.” He shifted, deliberately maneuvering his long, hard length down the crack of her behind to settle at the triangular juncture of where her treasures met. She spread her legs slightly to ensure him a better fit, and he was satisfied with the chill he felt blow through her. After her confirming shiver, he continued to breathe into her ear. “Do you feel that, Amanda? Do you think I want to worry about whether or not you can handle me? I was caught up in thinking how you were made for me. You’re so perfect I was taking a moment to give thanks for it. You should be spanked for even thinking anything else.”