He retaliated by twisting my nipple painfully and it made me let go of his earlobe to cry out.
“Come on, tiger, fight me,” he encouraged and ground himself against me, letting me feel how aroused he was. My heart was drumming, my blood boiling, and I bit my lip unsure how to deal with these surreal emotions of raw desire that our fight brought out in me.
“You can do better than that,” he encouraged and with a new scream I rambunctiously bucked him off me.
Boulder kept on top of me, panting, and lowering his head to kiss my collarbone. His hand was still under my shirt and squeezing my breast. I used the dirtiest trick I could think off and pulled his hair.
He didn’t scream in pain, but he growled low when I combined my pulling his hair and bucking him off.
And it worked. With a cry of victory, I scrambled up to straddle him, holding him down with pressure on his chest.
We were staring into each other’s eyes, out of breath and with our mouths open.
“You will shave off that beard,” I said triumphantly.
“I will.” Boulder’s smile looked confident and satisfied – as if he had won and not me.
“And you’ll take off this shirt,” I said and lifted my hands from the soft leather.
His hands found my hips and he pressed his groin against me while moaning low. I didn’t move away but closed my eyes for a second, overwhelmed with the tingling of butterflies taking up flight between my ribs.
“I don’t want to go down for dinner,” he whispered. “I would much rather stay here with you.”
Part of me wanted that too. To be exact: my body wanted that. I opened my eyes enough to see him.
Boulder’s gray eyes were fixed on my puckered nipples, which showed through the shirt. My skin was on fire when his right hand slid up under my shirt and cupped my breast.
With hooded eyes and shallow breathing, I let my hips swivel against him slowly, pressing against his large erection, meeting his rhythmic bump and grind.
“Fuuuck, you have no idea how sexy you are right now,” Boulder muttered low with half-lidded eyes of his own.
While my body was giving in, my mind was holding on to the last part of my self-control. “We have to go down. Pearl needs my support,” I said but made a small moan myself when his erection pressed at my most sensitive spot.
“I just wanna stay here and play with you.”
“Play with me?”
“Tussle with you and make love to you,” he whispered and weaved a hand into my hair, pulling me down for a long explorative kiss that felt amazing.
“Go shave,” I said and finally pulled away from him, my hands shaking from what we had just done. I had never done anything remotely as violent as pushing and biting a man.
“All right.” He groaned and got out of bed. “But just so you know,” he said and walked close enough to pull my back against his chest and lean his head on my shoulder. “When we get back here, I’m burying myself inside of you.”
“Maybe,” I said and froze when he lovingly kissed my neck.It’s just an experiment, I reminded myself.Nothing more than a first-hand experience of a physical relationship between men and women. It means nothing.Yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off him when he walked to the bathroom, stripping out of his shirt on the way and showing off his broad muscled back. Before he closed the door, he gave me a killer smile and teased, “Are you sure you want me to shave it off?” He was touching his beard.
“I’m sure,” I said with conviction.
CHAPTER 23
Civil Dinner
Christina
When Boulder emerged from the bathroom completely clean-shaven, I gaped at him. It was like seeing a different man. He arched a brow at me and crossed his arms across his wide naked chest. “I can’t believe I did this. I look like an adolescent boy.”
“No,” I breathed. “You don’t.”
He touched his face. “At least it’ll grow out again.”
