“If you want an affair, Natalie, I’m your man.” His voice
plummeted into
throaty depravity, the want in him so quick and intense it
tightened his
airway.
Her lashes quivered and her pupils expanded. “I…It was just
a fantasy,”
she insisted—voice, tone, protest thin and insubstantial.
The elevator stopped again.
He pinned the door automatically with the well-practiced
step of his foot
into the sensor and the rest of him in her space.
She was off balance, breasts rising in a startled gasp as
her hand went
behind her searching blindly for the rail.
He braced his hands against the wall on either side of her
head and took
his time gazing on her wary expression, letting her get used
to the idea.
Some primal part of him deliberately forgot why he’d meant
to let her go
home alone.
“The first time I saw you I thought you would have such soft
skin.” He
leaned close enough to draw in the scent of her flushed
cheek, letting
their body heat build in the tiny space he allowed between
them. Seduction
was about giving a woman time to feel the want, then
providing the relief.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered, but her gaze was on his
mouth. Yearning
parted her lips. “I didn’t mean for you to think…”
Patience, he warned himself, practically trembling with the
avalanche of
desire building behind his wall of self-control.
“I want this…” she whispered.
He moved in with the skill of a man who always got what he
wanted, not by
force, but persuasion.
Her mouth was a tender morsel that made his breath hiss out in
gratification as he nuzzled it with his own. She responded
hesitantly,
then with openness, inviting his full possession, letting
him guide her
toward the sensual world he longed to explore with her. She was
delightful, shy yet generous, eyes closed tight in pained
pleasure. When a
little sob of capitulation left her, when she brought her
hands from
behind her back to his chest and splayed them in a promising
caress, he
drew back just enough to speak.
“Come with me.”