Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,79

way to my chest, caressing my collarbone and the tops of my breasts. They stop moving when I drop my towel. His entire body goes still and he looks as though he’s been struck. “Oh my God,” he says, in a deep, gravelly voice. He takes a step back to have a look.

His gaze burns. Those typically light blue eyes turn deep navy and he makes a low, almost feral sound of approval. No one has ever looked at me the way he is right now, like I’m the pot of gold at the end of an elusive rainbow. His gaze flickers over my breasts, stomach, legs, then back up to my eyes. The long column of his throat moves when he swallows.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his fingers exploring the edges of me.

It’s hard to breathe. Part of me wants him to grab me and have his way, but the other part of me enjoys his delightful little explorations.

He smirks when my breathing becomes more labored. He’s teasing me, I realize. He’s waiting for me to beg him, but I won’t. I have amazing self-control.

It becomes a game, and he knows it. I can tell by that frustratingly cocky smile of his. What he doesn’t realize, is that this isn’t a game he can win.

He kisses my forehead gently, keeping his hand on my waist, but barely touching. I do the same, touching him, but not quite. My hands rest on his shoulders, his hard muscle flexing under my palm. It’s as if his muscles are made of driftwood, all smooth, rolling plains. There’s no give to him, no soft parts like I’m used to with my ex.

His touch almost tickles, the way his skin skims over mine, causing my body to breakout in goosebumps. His lips trail feather-light kisses down my temple, to my cheek. I turn my head to kiss his lips, but he backs away.

I smile. I see how it is. He smiles too when he realizes I’m catching onto the rules of this game. No overt kissing, I get it. He then moves to my ear, his tongue toying with my earlobe. I close my eyes and revel in this sensation.

His fingertips move to my hips, caressing my curves. He touches my thighs, my belly button, brushes over my mound, but never that delicious spot between my legs that aches to be touched. I know I’m wet for him. I can feel it running down the inside of my thighs. He notices it too as his hands explore. His smile grows until his lips part to show off those splendid white teeth of his.

“I’m not going to give into you,” I promise him. My voice is husky, wavering.

He lets out a low, boyish laugh that’s the most adorable sound I’ve ever heard. He nods and I know he doesn’t believe a word of it. “We’ll see about that,” he says.

His lips continue their maddening exploration, kissing the globe of my breast, but never nearing the nipple. He gets down on his knees, his tongue dipping into my bellybutton. The further down he goes, the more my resolve wears down. When his face hovers right over my pubic bone, I don’t know how much more I can take. He doesn’t kiss me there, just looks up at me. I can feel his hot breath on me. Just an inch closer and his lips will touch. A needful moan escapes my lips and I chastise myself for it.

I will not cave. I will not give into him.

He takes his finger and runs it along my inner thigh, getting it wet with the arousal that continues to drip down my leg. He then brings it to his mouth and licks it off, making a sound of approval.

I cave. I give into him.

Curling my fingers in his hair, I beg him, “I need you. Inside of me. Now.” The words come in bursts and stops.

He doesn’t smile or throw his victory in my face. Instead, he stands up, his face a hard, lust-filled mask, and grabs me like a caveman. He pushes his hips against me, his hard-on presses up against my stomach. The pressure feels amazing. I hadn’t realized how tall he was until this very moment. I have to tilt my head up for him to kiss me.

Only his board shorts stand between us now. I reach down and untie them.

He takes my hand and wraps my fingers around his rock-hard bulge. Oh fuck, he’s huge. I