Free Flirting with Sin by Naima Simone Page B

man wielded. Need, molten and thick, flooded her veins. Through the arterial highway, desire reached every cell, limb and organ, infiltrating her, consuming her.
    She stared at him, so ensnared in his erotic offer and the carnal promise in his stare, she couldn’t respond. Couldn’t object when he reeled her closer by slowly twining her hair around his fist. The pulls on her scalp reverberated in her quivering, hungry flesh, drawing more moisture to coat her panties. In the years she’d been with Troy, she’d never been this wet…and except for her hair, Ari hadn’t even touched her—yet.
    The “yet” had her scared as hell and creaming in anticipation.
    So far, she’d managed to hold onto her heart. It’d been a battle, but she’d won. But if he touched her, the last walls around her emotions would crumble and the siege would be over. She’d lose. And the aftermath would be total devastation. Somehow, she knew Ari Sincero would wreak far more damage than Troy or the other men ever could or did.
    She parted her thighs.
    A rumble of approval vibrated in his chest. Slowly, as if granting her an opportunity to change her mind, he shifted closer, his leg pressed to her hip, his chest grazing her arm. He untangled his fingers from her hair and settled them on her stomach. Propping his other arm on the pillow behind her, he again twisted his fingers in her loose waves.
    Drawing her head back until her neck arched, he stared down at her, his narrowed, hot scrutiny steady, relentless. Watching for…
    He skimmed a fingertip up her slit through her pajama bottoms.
    Lightning lanced her, and she bucked against the caress. A low cry escaped her.
    “I got you, baby.” He repeated the stroke over her sex before blazing a trail up her belly. He slid under the low, elastic band of her pajamas. With unerring precision, he dipped beneath her panties and buried a finger in her drenched folds. “I knew it. So fucking wet and hot.” He retraced his erotic path to the top of her sex and circled her clit, delivering a tender pat.
    “I can’t.” She gasped, gripping his wrist with both hands. He stilled, his finger remaining on the engorged bundle of nerves. Unbidden, her hips rolled, stealing one last caress to her flesh. She whimpered. “Please, Ari. I can’t—”
    Desperation born out of panic colored her voice, stripped it of strength so it emerged as a weak whisper.
    “Shhh…” He eased his hand from under her clothes. The grip on her hair also loosened then disappeared. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” With a sweep of his thumb over her cheekbone, he shifted away from her, granting her the space she needed…and hated.
    Jesus Christ, what was wrong with her? She shuddered, clasping her hands in her lap. As if she could contain the warring factors within her.
    “I’m going to leave.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead then rose from the bed. “Good night.”
    She parted her lips to…apologize? Thank him? Object? Hell, she didn’t know. Couldn’t think with her brain calling her an idiot, blaring warnings about self-preservation while her body cried out for him to put his hands back on her. To continue plying her with pleasure.
    Indecision froze her to the bed as he walked out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. Carrying the warmth and light with him.
    Coward .
    The accusation hissed through her brain. Yes. But what was the saying? He who fights and runs away may live to fight another day . By pushing him away now, she would save herself the agony of another heartbreak. He’d already insinuated himself into her heart. Years of fan-girling and these last few days had accomplished that. The tender moments when he’d revealed his pain and grief to her. When he’d showed her a side of himself she doubted many were privileged to witness. When he’d made her feel special, wanted.
    Yet, allowing him inside her body—letting him fill her, complete her—would render removing him impossible. Because he