stop, but she kept going, growing more amorous by the second.
Her lips found first my chin, then my neck. Her hands released my hair to rove along my back, kneading the muscles there, drawing attention to each ache before moving on to the next. Then her none-too-gentle attention moved downward, stroking my thighs.
“Sweetheart,” I said in a thick voice, unsure where the endearment came from, but immediately wanting to say it again. “Sweetheart.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured.
I tipped her face up. Her cheeks were flushed, and my resolve was crumbling quickly.
“Look at me.” I needed her to see the sincerity in my eyes. “If you start this…if you really start it…I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop it.”
In reply, she bit down on one of my earlobes.
I groaned and brought my arms around her waist, crushing her to my chest. I used my hands to protect her from the hard ground and rolled her to her back. I traced the side of her neck with my mouth.
Why was I holding back?
I couldn’t remember.
“So beautiful,” I said against her throat.
Did she know that she deserved so much more than Cohen could ever have given her? Did what she had at home compare to this moment, right now? I wanted to show her what she was worth.
When she arched underneath me, I brought my lips to hers. My kiss was fervent, and full of relieved worship. Polly responded with equal enthusiasm. I kept one hand under her head while slipping the other under her dress.
My fingers closed over the edge of her underwear. I drew in a rough breath as I recalled how they looked when she danced across the stage. For a second I was torn. I wanted to see the way they outlined the perfect swell of her rear end again almost as much as I wanted to tear them off.
Polly took the choice away from me. Swiftly, she lifted her hips and dragged the underwear off. Her palms found my hips, then paused at the bottom of my T-shirt. I tensed involuntarily as her fingertips grazed my lower abdomen.
Am I going to let her keep going?
She drew back slightly and met my gaze with a look in her eyes that told me she was wondering the same thing.
“You don’t have to take it off,” she murmured.
“I know.”
I was tempted, though. I reached to draw it up and at the last second, she slid her hands away from my stomach and smoothed down my shirt tenderly.
Polly opened her mouth, and I waited for a pity-filled question to come out. Instead, she smiled.
“Next time,” she whispered.
My heart thickened in my chest at the promise. I cupped her face with my hands and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth.
“Thank you,” I stated, my voice rough with desire.
“For what?”
“For breaking your rules,”
I didn’t give her a chance to reply. I leaned away and began to undo her dress slowly, deliberately. After each button opened, I dragged my lips across the newly exposed skin. With each kiss, Polly shivered. Four buttons in and I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Oh, God.
I pushed aside the fabric of her dress and her breasts sprung free, taut and inviting in the humid air. My fingers continued their work on the dress, but my mouth was suddenly preoccupied elsewhere.
Using my tongue, I traced a pattern around first one nipple, then the other. She gasped under the attention, spurring me on. I drew one pink point into my mouth as I worked the rest of her dress free. When I had undone it the whole way, my hand slipped between her legs. Her thighs fell apart with no effort at all.
A noise—midway between a moan and a growl—escaped from my throat as I found her wet and waiting. She reached between us to tug on my shorts. I let her pull them down to my knees, enjoying the way she squirmed under me, then I kicked them off the rest of the way.
She called out my name in a desire-filled whisper, and followed it with a command.
“Painter, please. Now.”
I was helpless to do anything but obey. I plunged into her and lost myself in her lavender-scented
Her lips found first my chin, then my neck. Her hands released my hair to rove along my back, kneading the muscles there, drawing attention to each ache before moving on to the next. Then her none-too-gentle attention moved downward, stroking my thighs.
“Sweetheart,” I said in a thick voice, unsure where the endearment came from, but immediately wanting to say it again. “Sweetheart.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured.
I tipped her face up. Her cheeks were flushed, and my resolve was crumbling quickly.
“Look at me.” I needed her to see the sincerity in my eyes. “If you start this…if you really start it…I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop it.”
In reply, she bit down on one of my earlobes.
I groaned and brought my arms around her waist, crushing her to my chest. I used my hands to protect her from the hard ground and rolled her to her back. I traced the side of her neck with my mouth.
Why was I holding back?
I couldn’t remember.
“So beautiful,” I said against her throat.
Did she know that she deserved so much more than Cohen could ever have given her? Did what she had at home compare to this moment, right now? I wanted to show her what she was worth.
When she arched underneath me, I brought my lips to hers. My kiss was fervent, and full of relieved worship. Polly responded with equal enthusiasm. I kept one hand under her head while slipping the other under her dress.
My fingers closed over the edge of her underwear. I drew in a rough breath as I recalled how they looked when she danced across the stage. For a second I was torn. I wanted to see the way they outlined the perfect swell of her rear end again almost as much as I wanted to tear them off.
Polly took the choice away from me. Swiftly, she lifted her hips and dragged the underwear off. Her palms found my hips, then paused at the bottom of my T-shirt. I tensed involuntarily as her fingertips grazed my lower abdomen.
Am I going to let her keep going?
She drew back slightly and met my gaze with a look in her eyes that told me she was wondering the same thing.
“You don’t have to take it off,” she murmured.
“I know.”
I was tempted, though. I reached to draw it up and at the last second, she slid her hands away from my stomach and smoothed down my shirt tenderly.
Polly opened her mouth, and I waited for a pity-filled question to come out. Instead, she smiled.
“Next time,” she whispered.
My heart thickened in my chest at the promise. I cupped her face with my hands and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth.
“Thank you,” I stated, my voice rough with desire.
“For what?”
“For breaking your rules,”
I didn’t give her a chance to reply. I leaned away and began to undo her dress slowly, deliberately. After each button opened, I dragged my lips across the newly exposed skin. With each kiss, Polly shivered. Four buttons in and I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Oh, God.
I pushed aside the fabric of her dress and her breasts sprung free, taut and inviting in the humid air. My fingers continued their work on the dress, but my mouth was suddenly preoccupied elsewhere.
Using my tongue, I traced a pattern around first one nipple, then the other. She gasped under the attention, spurring me on. I drew one pink point into my mouth as I worked the rest of her dress free. When I had undone it the whole way, my hand slipped between her legs. Her thighs fell apart with no effort at all.
A noise—midway between a moan and a growl—escaped from my throat as I found her wet and waiting. She reached between us to tug on my shorts. I let her pull them down to my knees, enjoying the way she squirmed under me, then I kicked them off the rest of the way.
She called out my name in a desire-filled whisper, and followed it with a command.
“Painter, please. Now.”
I was helpless to do anything but obey. I plunged into her and lost myself in her lavender-scented
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