Ride Rough - Tessa Layne Page 0,42

back to his. She tapped her mouth with a finger, nibbling on the tip. "Hmm... so many choices."

"Name one," he said gruffly, quickly losing patience with their latest round of sparring.

Cecilia lifted her chin, motioning for him to continue. "Show me the goods."

He bit back a laugh, but obliged, toeing off his boots, and dropping his jeans and boxer briefs in one motion. His cock sprung out, heavy and thick, and when she sucked in a quick breath, his chest puffed. "Satisfied?" He drew a hand along his length, showing off more than a little bit. Holding her gaze, he stepped out of the leg holes and kicked his bottoms across the floor to join his boots.

Her smile gave everything away as her eyes lit hungrily. "Quite." She reached behind her back and released the clasp, quickly shimmying out of the pink material. For a full moment, Trace forgot to breathe.

"You're fucking magnificent," he said, voice sticking low in his throat like he'd choked on something. Her breasts were full, but not large - a perfect handful - and very very real. The kind of flesh he could worship and not worry about popping. But it was her nipples - dark peaks in an ocean of tawny flushed skin that had him salivating, ready to drop to his knees and worship her from head to toe - fuck drawing this out. He wanted all of her, right now. If he didn't, he might just lose his mind.

He covered the distance between them, and gently pushed her back, climbing on top of her and fisting his hands in her hair, holding her still and devouring her hot mouth. Beneath him, she moved with the rhythm of ocean waves, fingernails pulling at the skin along his spine. He groaned into her mouth as he deepened the kiss, lost in the surge and swell of their own making. He wanted her every way, all at once, his mind quickly filling to the point of overload. This felt too damn good. She felt like everything - all that he'd ever wanted, all that he could be. He yanked her thigh up, notching himself at her entrance, slicking his head with her arousal, ready to slide home.

"Wait," she said with a gasp, tearing her mouth from his and pushing against his shoulder.

"What?" he said, breathing heavily as he dragged his brain back from the brink. "Are you okay?"

Shit.

Of course.

He was already moving as she said it. "Condoms."

Motherfucker. Had he really come that close to losing his mind? He'd never gone bare. Not once. He looked around the room, seeing it for the first time - the white shelves lined with books, the reading bench in the window, all of it. "Where are they?"

"I-I... maybe downstairs?" She blinked up at him.

"What do you mean downstairs?"

"In my purse. On the porch."

On the porch. "Don't you have any up here? Under the bed? Bathroom?"

She shook her head, cheeks flaming. "If there are any up here, I wouldn't trust them."

Trace stared down at her. "You wouldn't trust them?" Was she joking? She didn't look like she was joking.

"It's been a while, okay?" She pushed on his shoulder again.

"Just how long are we talking?" he murmured, a small smile pulling up the corner of his mouth.

"Since I brought someone home? Never."

Huh. "And since you've been properly laid?"

She made a noise in her throat. "Properly? Probably the same," she mumbled refusing to meet his eyes. "But if you're talking timelines, probably six months."

"Wait... probably the same?" Was she yanking his chain? That was like throwing the gauntlet. "So what you're saying is... I'm popping your orgasm cherry," he teased with a snicker.

She hit his shoulder harder. "I know how to have an orgasm," she said with a note of warning and motioning to the door. "But no one will be having one if you don't bring me my purse."

He pushed off the bed, tearing his eyes away from how lovely she looked lying back against the sheets they'd wrinkled. "And what's in it for me if I run downstairs?"

"What do you think, Captain Obvious?"

Trace backed toward the door, puffing under her avid gaze. "Besides that. That's a given."

A slow smile cut across her features as her eyes lit with mischief. "Anything you want, starting with those spankings you keep teasing."

Chapter Eighteen

Trace's eyes lit with a ferocious hunger. "Don't move." He disappeared into the hall, and she heard him bounding down the stairs at least two at a time.

Cecilia smothered a giggle.