Free The Wrong Man by Delaney Diamond Page B

Big. Tremendous.
    She swallowed, and when he reached for her, she stepped out of reach. “It’s been a while,” she said.
    “Then we should get you ready.” His fingers curled into the fabric of her dress and he pulled her toward him.
    As he reached for the zipper at the back, she stayed his hand, suddenly mindful no other man but her ex-husband had seen her naked in over ten years. “The light.”
    Tomas shook his head. “I want to see all of you. Everything.” He lowered his head and kissed her again, softly, soothingly, easing her fears. When he sensed her calm, he lowered the zipper and pulled the dress over her head, tossing it over his shoulder. Next, her underwear and strapless bra.
    His appreciative gaze swept over her naked body and she fought the instinctive urge to fold her arms over her front and hide from him. “Beautiful,” Tomas murmured. And how could she not feel beautiful, when he looked at her with such desire-filled eyes?
    He grazed the tips of her breasts with the back of his hand and the tiny buds tightened painfully.
    “Tomas…” she breathed.
    Slowly, he urged her backward without touching, his steps deliberate and eyes focused. Her legs bumped the edge of the bed. “What do you want, querida ?” he whispered, bending close. He’d never called her that before—beloved, darling. She responded to the affection in the words, longing to touch and be touched. “This?”
    Lifting her onto the mattress, he fastened his mouth over her breast. She tossed her head back, gasping at the immediate shock of pleasure. He sucked the hard peak and she strained toward him with quivering eagerness. He licked the nipple, laving the tip with moisture, and the sight of his pink tongue flicking over the dark peak made her throb with heated desire. She let him suck and pull, unwilling to do anything but give him the unrestricted right to drive her mad. Inhaling a trembling breath, she filled her fists with strands of his hair, holding on to the brown locks as he gorged in a leisurely fashion, using his tongue and lips to tug and tease.
    Then he was cupping her mound, circling her clit, his fingers becoming drenched in moisture as he fondled the plump folds. “Nice and wet, just the way I like,” he whispered, spreading warm air over her breast. He lifted his head and locked his eyes with hers. “I want you to touch yourself.”
    The shocking request left her speechless, and Talia shook her head, curling her hands into themselves—embarrassed and mildly mortified by the request, even as her body creamed in response.
    “Relax.” Tomas gently released the fingers one by one and guided her hand to the triangle of hair between her legs. “Go ahead. Don’t be shy,” he coaxed. “I want to watch.”
    He eased her knees apart and laid her bare, exposed to him. Talia held his steady gaze and hesitantly, haltingly, slid her fingers over the tight pearl between her legs. She was so sensitive there she gasped, and right away became filled with a profound sense of power as she watched his jaw tighten in concentrated focus. His intensity aroused her further and her confidence increased.
    Trailing trembling fingers over the wet curls, she stroked tentatively at first and then moved with bolder strokes. As she touched herself, her whole body became awash in sensations. A pounding ache filled her loins and her moans grew louder. She was losing herself, panting heavily as her mind spun in a twisted circle. Her fingers skirted the firm nub couched between the feminine petals, and she became lost in self-stimulation and arched her hips up, sucking in a lungful of air.
    Murmuring approval, Tomas dragged her to the edge of the bed by the ankles. Spreading her legs wider, he levered over her and kissed a path along the delicate curve of her stomach. His hand joined hers between her legs, and a soft cry left Talia’s throat, her voice pained and unrecognizable.
    Tomas dropped to his knees and took control, shoving her