Page 36 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

He slid one finger inside her.

She was tight. Hot. Slick with want. Her inner muscles clenched around him, and the sensation—the way she gripped him, pulled at him—made him groan against her flesh.

"Please…" She was begging now, her voice breaking. "I'm so close…"

He added a second finger, crooking them to find the spot that would shatter her.

She screamed.

Her whole body bowed off the mattress. Her hands fisted in his hair hard enough to send sharp pain lancing across his scalp. Even that felt good, another sensation to add to the overwhelming flood. She came against his mouth in waves, clenching around his fingers, sobbing his name like it was the only word she knew.

He worked her through it, gentling his touch as the aftershocks rippled through her. His own body was screaming for release. Every muscle was taut, his cock so hard he could feel his heartbeat in it, but he ignored the demand. This wasn't about him. This was about her.

When he finally lifted his head, she was staring at him with wonder.

"That was…" She swallowed. "I've never… no one's ever…"

"Good." His voice came out rough, possessive in a way that surprised him. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her shiver. "That's how it should be."

She reached for him. Her hand found the front of his trousers, pressed against the length of him, and he nearly came apart at the contact. His hips bucked into her palm before he could stop them, a hoarse sound escaping his throat.

"Florence, no."

"Your turn," she murmured, fingers fumbling at his buttons. "I want to try."

He caught her wrist. It took every ounce of willpower he had left.

"No."

She blinked. "What?"

"Not tonight."

"Matthew." She tried to pull free, and he felt her fingers brush against him through the fabric. His vision went white for a moment. "I want to feel you."

"I know." He was panting, he realised. Could barely form words. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her palm, then placed it firmly on the mattress. "I know you want to. But not tonight. Not like this."

"Like what?" Confusion and frustration warred in her voice.

"You just woke from a nightmare. You're shaking. You're vulnerable." He made himself release her wrist, even though every part of him was screaming to guide her hand back to where he needed it. "If we do this, I want you clear headed. I want you choosing me because you want me, not because you're running from something else."

"I do want you." Her eyes dropped to the obvious bulge in his trousers. "If you don't want—"

"Christ, Florence." The laugh that escaped him was pained. "I want you so much I can barely see straight. I've been hard since you touched my arm in your sleep, and watching you come just now nearly killed me." He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. "But I'm not going to take you when you're like this."

She stared at him, emotions flickering across her face. Frustration. Confusion. And then hurt—raw and undisguised.

"You're a strange man, Matthew Collins," she said quietly.

"So I've been told."

He needed to move. Needed to put space between them before his resolve crumbled entirely. His cock was throbbing, demanding attention, and if she touched him again, he wasn't sure he could say no a second time.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Floor."