Spencer fitted his lips to mine, kissing me softly. I melted into it, surprised at how warm and rich it was, like the first bite of a lava cake. He turned me so I faced him, and with my hands still holding up my bodice, he gathered me against him with one strong arm while the other cupped my jaw. He kissed me slowly, coaxing my lips open and then delving his tongue deep into my mouth. My legs squeezed together against a sudden wave of desire, and I opened my mouth for him, exploring the way his velvet tongue felt against mine.
With my thoughts hazy, I released the bodice and reached up to frame his face, pushing onto my tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Suddenly, I wanted more. I needed more of his mouth, his tongue, his warm breath. Spencer responded, flattening my body against his until I could feel his erection against my lower belly. He groaned into our kiss, and that gave me a heady rush of power—my kiss was affecting him. He wanted me.
Spencer backed me up two steps to the bed, and my dress snagged, tugging down. I stopped, glancing down at my bare breasts and stomach, and then I lifted a hesitant look his way. I wasn't anything special, as far as curves went. In fact, I wasn't sure Ihada single curve on my body. Straight lines, harsh angles, and thin skin that revealed blue and purple veins everywhere. I'd always been convinced I would turn a man off if he got a good look at my body.
Spencer's pupils dilated, blown out wide and nearly swallowing the soft brown of his irises. He breathed in deeply and slid a hand around the outside curve of my breast. "Fuck, Ara. You're so beautiful."
Heat tinted my neck and cheeks. "You don't have to lie. It doesn't matter."
He gripped my chin and forced my gaze to his, suddenly. "This doesn't count as eye contact because this isn't sexual. Listen to me, Arabella; you are stunning. Every inch of you. Don't say another word against yourself, understood?"
I swallowed hard. "Got it."
He released me, gentle again and sliding his hands down my bare sides. His touch ignited a fire with every stroke, and the warmth between my legs intensified. With his eyes on my body, he slid the rest of my fluffy gown over my hips until it bunched around my legs. I glanced down again, kind of wishing I'd worn something other than white, cotton underwear, but then I reminded myself that this was just Spencer. It was just sex. We were doing this for the hell of it, and I had to stopthinkingso much.
Like Spencer could read my thoughts, he lifted me out of the dress and threw me on the bed. I gasped, surprised at first, and then furious that he'd had the absoluteaudacity.He was right there on the bed next to me then, and I shoved at him, rolling away. "You are such a—" I ended my sentence with a shriek as he caught me and dragged me across the bed to him.
Like something inside of me had taken flight, I had the sudden desire torun. And even more disconcerting… I wanted him to chase me. The simple act of being dragged across the bed into Spencer's waiting, stronger arms had unlocked something inside of me I hadn't even known was there. It startled me enough that I let him pull me against his body, and he trapped me beneath his enormous frame with a cocked eyebrow. "You're way overthinking this, Bee. We do not have to do this if you're not ready."
"Yes, we do," I huffed, pressed into the mattress by the arm he had pinned around my torso.And I want you to chase me naked. I want you to catch me and pin me down, and…I swallowed hard, trying to push those thoughts away. "I'm already mostly naked. Let's just do it."
Spencer shook his head, lifting his eyes in bemusement, and then he shifted over me, straddling my hips and pinning them in place with his knees. He didn't look me in the eyes, but he did let his gaze rove over my bare body as he undid the top two buttons on his white shirt. His combed-back, dark hair had become a little mussed, which honestly only made him look sexier. When the buttons on his shirt were all unfastened, he whipped the shirt back, but it only revealed a white undershirt.
But then that shirt was off, too, and I felt my eyes grow round as I took in the toned perfection of his torso and arms. Every muscle flexed and moved with his movements like a dance, and—wait—abs couldactuallylook like dinner rolls? Holy shit. Spencer bent over me, balancing his weight on his hands on either side of my head, and he dipped down to brush his nose against mine. "Last chance, Arabella. If you don't stop me, I'm fucking you into next year."
I arched my back, so my breasts brushed his chest. "Stop threatening and just do it."
He chuckled roughly as he skimmed his lips under my jaw. My body fired to life again, too warm and aching for his touch. Then Spencer took my hands in his and slowly lifted them over my head. He pinned my wrists in place with one strong hand, and with a sly glance upward, he slid all the way down my body until his lips hovered over my nipple. His warm breath tightened the bud to a hard nub as he whispered, "Hang on tight, cowgirl."
Chapter eleven
Spencer
This couldn't be real.
I'd put so much effort into ignoring my attraction to Arabella over the years, it had become a delicately balanced, painstakingly built construction made of paper and prayers. And just now, I could hear thefwapof my card tower falling to the floor in a heap. I had her naked beneath my body, and her eyes were hooded with desire, her pink lips parted, and back arching, reaching for my touch. Maybe they'd drugged the piece of wedding cake I'd stolen before the ceremony. If so, I was addicted now—there was no way I could give this up.
I flicked her nipple with my tongue, my eyes glued to her expression. She reacted with a sharp intake of breath, twitching and closing her eyes.Oh, hell yes.I did it again, and she gusted out in surprise, so I circled the bud with my tongue. She writhed, just like I'd predicted. Arabella was going to buck and thrash, and I was going to fuckinglove it.
When I sucked her nipple into my mouth and bit gently, she cried out in surprise, her back arching harder and her wristsfighting against my hold. What was that she'd said about not needing a safe word? A devil on one shoulder said I should test that theory. But the more rational part of me won out, and I released her nipple, kissing it softly. "Yes or no?"
Her throat slid, and she puffed out a "Yes."
I hummed in appreciation and dragged my lips from one breast to the other. I licked the tip, and she jumped again, squirming against my hold. I blew softly on the wetted tip, and she moaned, eyes closed and lips parted. Triumph warmed my chest, and I circled the nipple and bit softly. Her reactions were everything. She twisted and bucked, fighting my wrists like she wanted to bat me away, but moaning and breathing hard in obvious appreciation. I tortured her nipples until I felt her pulse race beneath my hand. Her lusty sounds got increasingly louder, almost pained, and then I brought my free right hand up to her thighs.
Kissing between her breasts, and still watching her reactions with fascination, I tickled up the valley from her knees to her the soft crease at the apex of her tightly closed thighs. She jumped, tensing, so I nipped the delicate skin above her belly button. "Spence," she huffed. Her eyes opened reluctantly, and I was careful not to make eye contact as I coaxed her thighs apart.
"Stop me anytime, Bee. But if not, then relax." She drew in a slow breath, and with an obvious effort, she relaxed her thighs apart a fraction. "That's it," I encouraged softly, slipping a finger into her heat, only to find her absolutely soaked. I had to tamp down a satisfied smirk.
"You are so perfect," I said honestly. I kissed back up her sternum to her breasts. When I nipped her nipple, she jumped again, but it was followed by an exhale of desire. I slipped a finger across her labia and found her swollen clit. I wanted to see her, to admire her, but I didn't want to push her past her comfort zone, so I circled it slowly.
She groaned, squirming. "Spencer, you can't—" She swallowed hard. "Stop."
I did, lifting my hand immediately, but she groaned and looked me in the eyes with feverish frustration. "No, stoptorturingme. Keep doingthat, though."
I let out a breathy chuckle, sliding back up her body to nuzzle under her chin. "Yes, ma'am." I brought my hand between her legs again, kissing under her jaw. "Spread your legs for me, Ara." She did, giving me easier access, and I slipped two fingers over her opening and back to her clit, teasing her. I wasn't in any hurry to end a gift from the gods.
But after circling around the sensitive cluster of nerves until the moisture dripped from her pussy, she bucked her hips with gusted moans. I pressed against her clit with gentle pressure, and she began to move against my hand in rhythmic need. As much as I desperately wanted to draw this out, to pleasure Arabella all night, my cock was so hard, I wasn't convinced it would ever recede. It pressed against the zipper of my pants and throbbed with every heartbeat.
