Heartland (True North #7) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,50

bed.

I can’t help my low moan as I sink back onto the pillow. This is exactly how all my fantasies play out, with Dylan pushing me down and taking everything I’m so ready to give him.

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. He’s still worshiping my neck as his hard body settles over the frustratingly thick flannel of my nightgown.

He stops, lifting his head to look down at me in wonder. He smooths the hair off my face with his thumb. “Tell me to get lost,” he begs suddenly. “This is a terrible idea. Tell me to fuck off.”

I can only shake my head.

His eyes dip down to my chest, which is rising and falling too fast. I expect him to say something else. To argue. So I’m not prepared for the way he drops his head to kiss the exposed skin at the top edge of my nightgown.

I gasp. When my arms clamp around his strong neck, he goes still for a moment. But then? His sweet mouth drops another kiss on my skin. Slower this time. And another. Thick fingers fumble open the first button, and his kisses trail a soft path between my breasts.

I am electrified. My arms tighten around his head, as if I could actually keep him here against his will. He drops hot, open-mouthed kisses onto the swells of my breasts, onto skin so unexpectedly sensitive that I want to weep with pleasure.

With a sigh, he presses his body more firmly against mine. He’s hard everywhere. Against my stomach. Against my thighs. Between my legs.

Then his mouth changes course, kissing up my chest and onto my cheek, and I can’t hold still any longer. My shameless hands skim down his muscular form. Even his butt is rock hard. He moans when I take it in two hands.

“Fuck,” he says against my jaw. “Tell me to stop.”

Once again, I shake my head.

“Chastity,” he whispers. His whiskers scrape the corner of my mouth as he kisses the side of my face. “Tell me. Make me stop.”

But I can’t. Even if he was right all along—that this was a bad idea—I don’t have that kind of willpower. I have the opposite kind—the kind that tugs his T-shirt up and slides a hand underneath, exploring the smooth skin of his back.

Then I give the shirt a really good tug.

With a groan that sounds half irritated, he yanks it up and over his head. I get one fast look at that rippling chest before his mouth descends on mine, hot and hungry.

That’s when I feel his self-control snap. He moans into my mouth at the first touch of our tongues. And then we’re like a couple of people running too fast downhill. Tongues tangling, hands grappling. Our kisses are wet and dirty.

I love it, but it’s hard to take in every new sensation at once. So I’m no help at all when Dylan tries to tug my nightgown up and off. He’s not a small guy, so his elbow catches an empty beer bottle on my nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor.

Neither of us bothers to see where it landed. I finally figure out how to raise my arms so he can lift the thing over my head and then drop it on the floor. Before I can even take a breath, he’s lowered his mouth to my breasts.

As the cool air hits my skin, all the heat goes right to my face. I’m so bare all of a sudden. My nipples are like hard, little points. It’s tempting to duck for cover, but I make myself stay completely still, except for trembling. I can’t control that.

“Chastity,” he whispers. “Goddamn.” The next sound he makes is an eager groan. And then he’s pushing me back onto the pillow again, kissing and licking first one nipple and then the other.

A warm hand lands on one breast and gives me a filthy squeeze. I’m still trembling as he licks his way across the other breast.

Then his mouth closes over my nipple, and he sucks. My mouth opens on a silent moan, because I had no idea how good that would feel. Like there’s a direct wire between my breast and the throbbing between my legs.

I want so many things. I want his hands on my body and his tongue in my mouth. I want Dylan to kick off his underwear and fuck me.

I can’t ask, though. I won’t beg. I’ll give him everything. Right now. But I don’t know how to offer.