Eager to Learn (Complicity Cycle) Read Online Free PDF Page B

The leather was ice against my back, and the goosebumps redoubled on my body. I gasped lightly as I settled into the couch, my head against one armrest and my heels on the other. My hands ran through his hair and wrapped around the back of his neck as I kissed him, but my knees pulled up defensively. I felt very small and exposed.
    I was naked, but he was still fully dressed . He leaned over me and kissed me down into the cushion, the physical weight of him strangely pleasant. He caressed the back of my head and ran his fingers through my hair.
    When his free h and found the bare skin of my waist, my knees pulled up even higher in defense. But his fingers drifted—they glided—an artist’s touch across my prickled and sensitive skin. And as his hand slid down past my navel, I felt my legs part.
    He cupped his hand over me. Barely touching, but not quite.
    I kissed him harder, my fingertips pressing into the back of his skull, his hair between my fingers. My legs fell open completely, but still he didn’t touch. He hovered, flexing his fingers lightly, teasing me.
    “ Please,” I gasped.
    In response, his mouth left mine. I felt his breath travel down my neck, and his nose brushed my nipple. He kissed the skin beneath my breasts and began working his way down.
    My arms dropped back against the couch. I was an exposed nerve, shivering and gasping.
    He got all the way down to the delicate skin beneath my panty line, kissing me tantalizingly before he raised up and came all the way back to my neck.
    “ No,” I said. My face pressed against the leather arm of the chair as I arched, trying to close the gap between myself and his gliding, agile hand. But he moved with me, staying always just a fraction of an inch away. Just far enough that we could feel the heat of each other. And I had to be practically radiating.
    He kissed my neck, sending static all throughout my body. He kissed along my jaw and then under my sky-pointed chin.
    I had never needed anything so badly in my life. I realized that, for all of Jeffery’s prowess, he was still a boy. For all of his snares, Jeffery couldn’t deny himself long enough to really make me need him. His cock was always a prodding, needy thing, demanding like a little tyrant.
    Dr. Giacomo was a man . A man who knew himself and knew a woman’s body. A man with patience and sensual cruelty. A man who already had me dangling at the end of a string. And I sucked in every desperate breath in hopes of staying that way.
    And then—finally—he touched me. Just one fingertip.
    I rocked back against the couch and gasped. I grabbed his shoulders, and for a moment our eyes met. Then he kissed me, and ran a single finger knuckle-deep inside me.
    I shuddered and dug my fingers into his back. I pulled my chest to his, and our ears brushed. Every inch of my body tingled and surged and yearned. I rocked my hips forward, taking in first one finger and then another. His thumb found the sensitive spot with too much pressure, and roots of awful ecstasy dug through my entire lower body. I clawed and scratched at the back of his jacket, but he didn’t relent. He moved the pad of his thumb in a slow, hard circle, and I buckled and jerked against him.
    His hand left me, and I strained after it with my body, my mouth locking with his and my fingers desperate in his hair.
    Fingers returned, light and gliding and wet with me. He traced around the threshold of my sex, up the exposed and shivering interior of first one leg, then the other, always back down to tease and flicker, but never to touch.
    By then I wanted more than mere touching. I wanted him to gouge me, to fill me, to leave me spent and ragged and crumpled. But he wouldn’t even offer a touch.
    “Please,” I said into his lips, still pressed against mine. “Please, please.”
    “Don’t come,” he said.
    “I won’t,” I said.
    He kissed me firmly one last time, then ran his free hand through my hair. The other continued to work its horrible