Page 70 of Heart Over Heels

He broke the kiss long enough to nip at my bottom lip then dove back in, swallowing the sharp sound that tore out of me as he rocked harder. My head fell against the back of the couch, and he chased me there, tongue laving over mine, stealing my breath.

At some point in the haze, his hands slipped from my shoulders. They trailed down my chest, over my stomach, and before I knew, it they were at my belt. The soft clink of metal preceded the whisper of my zipper being tugged open.

Shock cut through the fog, and my hand shot out, catching his wrist before he could go further.

“Darby…”

My chest heaved as I tried to steady myself. But that proved difficult when his face was the only thing I could see. His lips were kiss-swollen, and his chest swelled against mine.

I wanted him—hell, I’d been half out of my mind with wanting him since the first time he smirked at me—but my want slammed into a wall I’d left between us.

I hadn’t told him about my leg.

Faced with the very real possibility of clothes coming off, I had to wonder how Darby would react. Would he be startled by my prosthetic, finding it as cold, hard, and intrusive as I did? Would it make me unappealing?Unattractive?

I thought he was stunning, captivating, and by every measure I could conceive, flawless.

But what would he think if he saw me as bare as I’d grown accustomed to seeing him?

Darby’s fingers traced the ridge in my jeans, and I bucked up needfully, but I didn’t release his wrist.

“You don’t need to be shy,” he murmured. “You’ve got more than enough to work with.”

My jaw clenched. I knew he meant it, but I couldn’t shake the fear of the moment when he’d see all of me and not just the parts I was willing to share.

Then he kissed me, and I surrendered the fight. The waistband of my boxers stretched as his hand slid beneath them, reaching.

The moment his fingers closed around me, I knew I was finished. He pressed in close and covered my throat with kisses that chased away what little sense I’d managed to retain.

“Do you think about me?” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin.

“Sometimes…”

All the time.

His hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes. “What do you think?”

“That…” My chest seized around the word. “You’re pretty.”

There was more,hewas more, but I stuck on that thought like a CD skipping.

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.

“Mmm.” He smiled against me, and the shape of it changed the press of his kiss. “You like pretty girls, don’t you, Mercy?”

“Yes.” My heaved breath mingled with a moan while sparks shot down my legs, tingling all the way into my toes.

“What else do you think about?” Darby’s hand tightened, rhythm quickening. “Touching me? Fucking me?”

“Ngh… God…”

His mouth was at my ear now, his words a sinful purr. “Do you wanna put your dick in me? Feel this tight cunt stranglingyour cock? Or maybe you want to stick it in my mouth? Choke me? Make me cry?”

A shiver tore through me as every stroke dragged me closer to the edge. My thighs tightened, and I thrust into his hand, chasing the pleasure he so generously gave.

I was lost to ecstasy until he called on me once more.

“Do you want me to swallow you down, Mercy baby?”