Off Limits by Emma Jay Page B

hips against him, but he only huffed a chuckle against her skin. She hooked her ankle around his, opening herself to him, and pushed again. This time the sound he made was almost one of pain, like he needed to be inside her as badly as she needed him.
    “Touch me, Zach. Please.”
    “I’m touching you,” he said, his mouth grazing the inside of her right breast.
    “Hands. Everywhere. God, you’re making me crazy.”
    “Payback for the last two weeks.” This was said against the side of her throat.
    “It hasn’t been two weeks.” She fisted her fingers in the front of his shirt so she didn’t grab his wrists and drag his hands to her breasts.
    “Feels like two years,” he said against her ear.
    “I’m going to come as soon as you touch me.”
    “I have no problem with that.”
    Of course not. Because she already knew one orgasm wouldn’t be enough tonight.
    He straightened and covered her mouth with his and finally—finally cupped her jaw. She shifted to rub against his touch, savoring the warmth of his skin before she angled her head, encouraging him to explore further.
    After long moments—God, he was a good kisser—his fingertips drifted down her throat to rest on the strap of fabric that looped around her neck. She held her breath in anticipation, but instead of cupping her breast, he found the fastener beneath her hair. With a deft move, he unhooked it, and the bodice drooped, pinned between their bodies. He made no move to free it, instead finding the zipper at the small of her back with no hesitation. Of course he would have noticed how to get her out of her clothes. He’d probably been planning this move all night. Only then did he put enough space between them so that the dress fell to the floor. He gave her that heart-stopping grin and lifted her out of the puddle of fabric, one arm around her naked waist, one behind her knees.
    Her heart hammered—no lover had carried her to bed before. But Zach swept her into his arms as if she weighed no more than the dress she left behind. With one hand resting below her breast, he carried her down the hall to his dimly lit bedroom and lowered her to the soft cotton comforter. He leaned over her, still completely dressed, grin fading just a bit as lust took over. She shoved at his jacket until he helped her peel it off, along with his shirt, and she arched her back to rub her aching nipples against his chest.
    He allowed that for only a moment before he shifted away, bending his head to her throat, following the line to her collarbone, to the hollow at the base of her throat. His breathing was ragged as he dropped kisses down her breast.
    “I didn’t pay these enough attention last time. You have gorgeous breasts, Paige.”
    She fisted her fingers in the comforter to resist the desire to drag his head to her flesh. Finally, finally, he parted his lips over her tight nipple and sucked deep.
    Wetness flooded her pussy at the sensation she’d longed for, as his tongue curled, his mouth pulled, his teeth nipped.
    “Touch me. God, Zach, I’m so close.”
    She thought he would deny her, because he turned his head to her other breast and gave it gentler attention, his tongue moving in swirls and licks that almost distracted her from noticing his fingertips gliding down her stomach to slip under the elastic of her lace panties. She whimpered and lifted her hips toward his touch. He stroked her curls, and with one finger, he parted her, gliding over her slick flesh, the petals, the swollen bud. When she rolled her hips up, he withdrew his hand and raised his head, touching his fingers to his lips.
    Tasting her. She couldn’t stop the groan at the eroticism of the gesture. Her own desire overwhelmed her, and she shoved at his shoulders until he took her meaning and turned onto his back. She straddled him, her fingers fumbling for the snap of his slacks, reaching inside to close around his erection as she nuzzled his nipple, savoring the brush of his chest hair