thumb tracing her jaw to the point of her chin. “You’re going to tell me you don’t believe in this?”
“In what?” Her voice was little more than a breath of sound.
His fingers released her chin, his whole hand turning so he could trail the back of his fingers down the length of her neck. He tugged the swath of satin at her neck where she’d tried to retie it. It came loose for him, like the rest of her inhibitions. She could practically count them falling at his feet.
Reason… clink .
Sanity… clink .
Self-preservation… clink .
His hands tugged at her buttons, pushing the tiny discs through the holes there, his knuckles grazing her breasts with each nimble shift. Soon enough, the blouse gaped open, only her camisole top keeping him from her skin.
“In this.” He slid the satin off her shoulders, taking the thin straps of her camisole with it. His fingertips traced the edges of fabric over the swells of her breasts, leaving trails of fire dancing over her skin. “It’s like a magic all its own when we’re together.”
Her eyes slid closed as he freed a nipple. “It’s sex.”
His breath made her lips tremble just before he drew one into his mouth, his tongue swiping over it and causing her to gasp. He let her go, the corner of his mouth curving when her eyes opened. The side of his forefinger coursed over her lip, taking the moisture he’d just given her before dropping back to her exposed breast. Wet fingers encircled her nipple, plucking at it, sending electric pleasure down her belly straight to her clit.
“It’s passion,” he corrected, his voice dropping to that bedroom tone she knew far too well. “I’ve missed your breasts, Jules. The flavor of them, the way your nipples tighten up for my mouth.”
So hard they hurt. She arched into his plucking fingers, moaning despite her deepest desire not to.
“I can’t look at you without remembering how you taste. What it sounds like when you beg me to make you come.” His free hand captured her other breast, pulling down the offending fabric before cupping it and drawing a helpless cry from her. His thumb began its own torture on the nipple he found there. He lowered his face to her neck, his breath hot against her skin. “I need you, Jules. Every minute of every day, I need you.”
“No you don’t.” If he’d needed her, he wouldn’t have pushed her away when she tried to comfort him. Back when she’d thought his silences held secrets and pain instead of indifference.
“Yes, I do. I can’t even breathe anymore without you.” Down. She felt him drawing them both down to the floor. She went, her body flowing into his, over his. He lay back on the carpet, pulling her with him, fitting her mouth to his, not to kiss, but to breathe her in. “You’re air to me, Julia. You’re the fucking air.”
Her eyes burned again, hot tears splashing down her cheeks again. “No, Grant—”
“Yes. You can believe in that, can’t you? Believe in me, in what we are together.” He kissed her, finally, oh God, finally, his hands cupping her head to keep her still while he plundered her mouth, searching for something she didn’t know if she had to give to him anymore. Helplessly, she gave in, lost in the swirl of need and desire. Her hair finally gave up as well, falling around them like a curtain. His hand moved off her face, following the concave arc of her spine before sliding over the curve of her rear. He squeezed, sending a flash of white-hot sensation through to her slick sex. He traced the crease he found all the way down to her wet folds, teasing her opening with dipping caresses.
She throbbed there, her sensitive flesh straining to take him in, practically sucking at his tempting touch but finding no reprieve. She needed him. Needed to be filled. Yanking back from his kiss, she braced a hand on his chest so she could pull at the button of his slacks. With a groan, he helped her, the two of them impatiently freeing his cock. He