Free Nobody Does It Better by Julie Kenner Page B

she maneuvered her leg over his thigh, needing to feel him pressed tight against her, wanting to feel the evidence of his arousal against her belly.
    His ministrations on her lip continued, and she moaned for him, closing her eyes and balling the material of his shirt in her tight fist as she struggled not to beg him for more.
    Desperate, she crushed herself against him and opened her mouth, silently urging him inside her. He played with her mouth, teasing, sucking, nipping, but never entering. When he drew away, she shivered from the cool air that replaced his hot breath. His attention had made her lips full and swollen. Raw with kisses. And she wanted more. Opening her eyes, she saw him smiling at her, his own mouth moist.
    "Please…" She could only manage one word, but that was all it took. He cupped her face and pulled her to him, his mouth claiming hers, fast, hard, primitive and completely satisfying. Their tongues fought a timeless battle of male and female, lust and desire.
    She writhed against him, wanting a satisfaction his kisses alone wouldn't bring.
    He released his claim on her mouth. " Paris . Oh, Paris …"
    The poor man sounded almost wounded. She'd never imagined herself capable of causing such a reaction, but she knew well enough it was real. She brushed her lips across his. "Yes?"
    "You're killing me. I can't keep kissing you, touching you, and not be deep inside you." Raw and gravelly with desire, his voice confirmed his words.
    "Oh. I…" She could barely force words past the haze of passion. Right then, all she knew was that she hungered for him. She'd made up rules, silly rules. But her body answered to a different law, and her rules now seemed best ignored. Or broken.
    " Paris , what do you want?" His murmur stroked and enticed her, turning the rivers of lust coursing through her into white water rapids.
    The space within his arms seemed to shrink. Her eyes locked with his, knowing that if he could see into her heart, he would see only passion.
    For years, her only adventure had been in her books. For one night, she wanted to live that adventure. With him. With Alexander.
    "You," she whispered. "Tonight I want you." Maybe it was just lust, but she wanted him inside her with a desperation she'd never felt before. She might regret it in the morning, but tonight she needed him. It didn't matter that he couldn't really be Alexander. Hadn't he told her that, just for tonight, he was? And he had to be…
    He had to be her dream man. After all, who besides Alexander could make her feel this way?
    * * *
    Devin couldn't take his eyes off her.
    Paris had said she wanted him—had said it out loud—and he intended to make love to her like no other man ever could. More erotic, more sensual, more thrilling than any lover she'd ever had.
    Or had ever fantasized about.
    With slow, torturous movements he grazed his hand along her thigh, her hose silky under his fingers. He watched the desire on her flushed face as his fingers moved casually up her leg. When his thumb grazed soft skin instead of silk, she shivered, and he stopped, surprised.
    "Stockings?"
    She nodded, her tongue flicking across her lips.
    "Oh, sweetheart. I knew you were sexy under that dress. I didn't imagine this."
    His finger skimmed the edge of the stocking until he found the snap of her garter. He moaned and took a second to fight for control, pressing himself closer to her.
    "I didn't think panty hose fit a special occasion. The publisher's party, I mean." She smiled at him, soft and feminine and a little shy. "I didn't realize quite how special the night would turn out to be."
    Her innocent, sweet words and halo of golden curls contrasted with the naughty lingerie and the heated arousal of her skin under his touch. The effect was honest and feminine and breathtaking.
    Devin wanted her even more. He hadn't thought such a thing possible.
    "Any more incredible surprises I should know about?"
    Wordlessly, she shook her head as his fingers fumbled