of whatever this is. But every nerve ending below my waist rages at the thought. Instead, I reach around him and boldly graze my fingers along the thick shape of his cock through the slacks.
Hard and long, he jerks against my hand, and his head falls back. “Danni.”
Sliding upward, I explore the chiseled expanse of his abs and run my nose along his neck. “You smell hungry, Trace.”
His chest heaves, and one leg stretches out, scraping his shoe along the floor. “Come here.”
A hand curls around my wrist, and I let him pull me around the chair. When I return to his front, I give him my back, writhing sensually, tauntingly between his knees.
“You have a great ass. Not big. Not small.” His voice is hoarse, raw, lacking its usual eloquence as he caresses my backside. “It’s a perfect shape that looks incredible on your body.”
Emboldened by the compliment, I slowly lower onto his lap with my back to him, grinding gently and shivering against the hard press of his erection. His hands slide to my thighs and move upward beneath the skirt, settling on my hips.
“Your skin feels like silk,” he breathes raggedly at my ear. “And the dips here…” His thumbs stroke my waist. “I dream about these curves and the way you move them. You’re built for sex.” He touches his mouth to my neck, groaning. “Christ, I’m so fucking hard.”
Quivers race along my inner thighs, and my core tightens, pulsates, driving my movements to the music. I lean back and press my backside into his lap, my shoulders against his chest, and wrap an arm around his neck.
“You always smell like Nag Champa.” With his hands beneath my skirt, one sinks between my legs, over the thong. The other lifts, slipping under my shirt to cup a bare breast. “Such a sexy, potent, exotic scent. It lingered on my sheets for a week after you left.”
“Your maid didn’t wash them?” I moan against the tweak of his fingers on my nipple.
“I wouldn’t allow it. Not until I couldn’t smell you anymore.”
My chest flutters.
Who am I kidding? There’s a damn butterfly migration taking off inside me. His confession is just so…unexpected. So is the hand caressing the soaked crotch of my thong.
He’s rock hard beneath me. I’m dripping wet. Why are we still talking?
I remind myself he was with another woman two nights ago. Hell, he could’ve spent the night with another woman after dropping me off at the concert.
Miserable thoughts. But my body doesn’t seem to care. His touch feels too good, and I’m so fucking worked up my pussy throbs with its own heartbeat.
“I love your tits.” He squeezes my flesh. “Perfectly round, sitting up high on your chest and driving me insane every goddamn day.” His finger circles around the bud. “I bet these perfect little nipples are pink.”
“See for yourself.”
“Turn around.”
I’m not fully standing before he spins me to face him, pulls me onto his lap, and guides my legs to straddle the spread of his.
“So damn beautiful.” He cups my face, seemingly hypnotized by whatever he sees there.
I look him in the eye and give him a sweet subtle grin, communicating that I know how entranced he is.
His attention lowers to my chest, and his hands follow, lifting the hem of my shirt with slow, agonizing patience. Cool air brushes my nipples. Then his gaze.
“Pink.” His expression intensifies, lighting me on fire.
He grips my ass and shifts me up his chest to nuzzle my breasts. I use my hands to squeeze what little I have around his face. His breaths become shallow, and his teeth graze my skin. When he swirls his tongue around a nipple, my head falls back, my fingers clutching his shoulders for support.
But he has me, his arms holding me tight as he lowers me onto the rigid cock trapped within his slacks. He rocks his hips upward, groaning, his hands roaming everywhere—my thighs, my breasts, my neck, always returning to knead my butt.
I slide my face along the side of his until I reach his ear. Then I draw the lobe between my lips and suck.
It sets him off, his hands plunging into my hair and his tongue sweeping into my mouth.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He growls into the kiss, the fingers in my hair wrenching my head back for a deeper angle. “You make me crazy.”
I know the feeling. All reason has abandoned me in the powerful arms of desire. I want him, need him, and