Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,63

fastener for her pants and pushed them over her hips.

Bohze, but her curves were the stuff of a man’s dreams, the line from her hip to her waist one he had every intention of paying homage to with his hands and his mouth.

She inched closer to him and gripped his shirt at each side, trying to tug the cotton free of his jeans.

He stopped her before she could complete her task. “Not yet, malen’kaya koroleva.” He crouched in front of her and skated his palms from the outside of her knees up her thighs to the waistband of her panties. Like her bra, they were modest. Built more for function and longevity than sexual display, but still sexy as hell considering the woman who wore them. “Not until I can see all of you.”

He hooked his fingers in the soft fabric and peeled her panties down her thighs.

Perfect.

Creamy skin. Dark, fiery hair. Voluptuous in every sense of the word.

“What does that mean?”

He heard her voice. Fully acknowledged she’d spoken, but had a hard time connecting her question to a specific context. “What does what mean?”

“Malen’kaya koroleva.”

He trailed his fingers up the inside of her thighs. What difference did it make if he answered now? He had far more difficult questions to answer in the days to come, and he’d made her wait long enough.

He ran the back of his knuckles across the closely trimmed dark curls covering her mound. “It is what you have reminded me of since the first day I met you.” He palmed her hips, rising to his full height as he caressed the stretch of skin along her sides. “A little queen, mighty despite your size. Fierce with your words and your fire.”

“Little queen? Me?” Watching her was adorable. Her curiosity warring with the need for more physical contact.

“Indeed.” Sliding each hand inward, he grazed the lower swell of each breast.

She gasped at the teasing contact and her back bowed on a silent plea for more. Giving it to her was tempting. His palms ached for the feel of her. To forgo tender touches and give his beast free rein.

But not yet. Not until he gave her all of it. The truth he’d only just admitted to himself. “Moya Koroleva.” He cradled each side of her face and repeated the words in English. “My Queen.”

Pure wonder shone from her eyes. Wonder and so much hope it both broke his heart and fueled his determination to win her. “I don’t...” She clutched his shirt and shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

He did.

Knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t rest until those same eyes stared back at him by night’s end fully sated and blissful. He pressed her backward, cushioning her descent to the bed with a hand at the back of her head, then growled against her lips. “You let go. And you enjoy.”

She groaned into his kiss. Pressed her naked body against his, tugged his shirt free of his jeans and plunged her hands beneath the hem.

Fuck, but her touch was magnificent. As demanding and intoxicating as her taste. As curious and explorative as her mind. She shoved his shirt higher and pulled away from his mouth only long enough to mutter, “Off.”

Yes. Skin to skin was better. More contact. More connection. More everything.

He rolled to the side of the bed and made fast work of his shoes and clothes, every second it took to rid himself of any remaining barriers spent with her looking her fill. Visually devouring every inch he exposed without an ounce of shame or trepidation.

And she was hungry.

His beast knew it. Felt it and roared its approval when she pushed herself upright and sensually crawled toward the edge of the bed, her gaze locked on his straining cock. With her mouth just inches from his shaft, she licked her lips and met his stare. “I get to enjoy, right?”

Fuck.

He’d never heard her voice so husky. So heated and sexy. He should be seeing to her needs. Spoiling her. Learning her body and what brought her pleasure.

But he couldn’t move. Could barely breathe as her attention slowly trailed a languorous path down his torso to his aching shaft. Perhaps she wasn’t a queen, but a sorceress. An enchantress capable of rendering him powerless with nothing more than a look and the promise of her touch.

Slowly, she reached for him. Traced a delicate line from the base of his cock to the tip and smiled. A devious grin