Page 94 of The Forbidden Billionaire
“Letting you go. You’re perfect.”
I snort. “I’m far from it. We both know that.”
But he shakes his head. “You’re beautiful, warm, funny, clever, and you like sex.” He groans and tips his head back. “Where have you been all my life?”
I smile at the compliment, warming all the way through. Then, curious, I ask, “Penny wasn’t your first, though?”
“No. I had a couple of girlfriends before. But you’re so clueless about sex when you’re younger. It’s all fumbling and apologizing. Sometimes, I’ve wondered what it would be like…” His voice trails off.
I lean my head on my hand. The wine is having a pleasant effect, loosening the tight nuts and bolts in my joints, relaxing my spine, polishing off my edges. I think it’s doing the same to him. For the first time, he slides down the sofa a little, his posture more open, less defensive. We’re turned a little toward each other, and I lift my feet and tuck them under his thigh, the way I did earlier. He rests his hand on my ankles, his thumb stroking the top of my feet.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Being with someone who was open. Who didn’t see sex as a chore.”
My heart goes out to him. Not every guy has had hundreds of partners. I love that he’s confident in so many ways, but secretly shy and unsure when it comes to affairs of the heart.
I sip my wine. “What would you do, if you were with someone like that?”
He gives me that gorgeous, boyish, mischievous look again, but just shrugs.
Oh God, I just adore this guy.
“Would you like to watch a woman use a vibrator?” I ask softly.
His brows draw together as if he can’t ever imagine that happening in the real world.
My heart racing, I ask, “Does it turn you on to think about me touching myself?” His eyebrows rise, and then he blows out a breath and brushes a hand over his face. I laugh. “You like that idea?”
He doesn’t reply, but his eyes are filled with wonder and wariness, as if he doesn’t believe this is real. I’m beginning to understand that when he doesn’t speak, it’s not necessarily because he doesn’t know what to say. It’s just that in the past, he’s had such a bad reaction to expressing an opinion that he’s afraid to say the wrong thing.
He’s rejected me several times before, but that was before we came to Evermore. Things have changed, and that—and possibly the wine—gives me the courage to act.
Our gazes lock. I think he’s holding his breath. His eyes are so hot, they practically turn me molten on the spot.
Reaching across, I put my wine on the table. Heart hammering, I get to my feet and turn to face him. Then I climb astride him and settle down on his lap.
I wait to see if he protests, tells me to stand, or even gets up. But he doesn’t. Instead, he lets his head fall onto the back of the sofa and looks up at me, fire in his eyes.
Taking his face in my hands, I brush my thumbs across the short bristles on his cheeks. I’ve wanted to kiss him for so long. I’ve dreamed about it for months. But in my dreams, I’ve only thought about what it would feel like when our lips touch. I’d forgotten about my other senses.
His cologne, the scent of rum and sugar, winds around me, enticing and exciting. I can see an old scar on his cheek; I haven’t noticed it before because it’s beneath his bristles. Did he get that in the army? Up close, I can see the color of his eyes—I thought they were dark brown, but the light from the TV shows they have flecks of orange, as if they’re leaping with flame.
I hold his gaze for a moment, looking into his eyes, hoping he can see desire in mine, and how much I want him. His expression holds a touch of bewilderment and uncertainty. All the times he’s held back and not replied to my teasing makes sense now. He’s been taught that desire is something to be ashamed of.
Time to change that.
At last, I lower my lips to his. As I open my mouth and slide my tongue against his, I can taste the wine we’ve been drinking. His sigh whispers across my lips, heartbreaking in its longing.
Mmm… I’m enjoying this. I slide my hands into his hair, my fingers brushing the short strands on the sides and sinking into the longer hair on top. Dom, unwilling to let me take charge, would have grabbed me and flipped me over and already been thinking about somehow restraining me on my back. I’m sure he was worried I might threaten his masculinity.
But Luke is apparently content to let me direct the action. His hands rest on my hips, although as we continue to kiss, he begins to stroke my back, his fingers sliding up my spine andsending shivers through me. His tongue plays with mine, teasing my lips, sliding into my mouth. But otherwise he lets me kiss him.
Moving up his thighs a little, I rest my arms on the back of the sofa and lean against him. My breasts rest against his broad chest, and I can feel his erection pressing between my legs. Ooh, wow, that’s impressive.
I move my hips a little, acknowledging that he’s interested, and his lips curve up under mine.
I lift my head. “Do you want me to stop?” My heart’s racing. I’m not used to playing the seductress, but hopefully I look more confident than I feel.
