Lion's Share
Page 33
I nodded, and the warmth spreading through me had nothing to do with desire or chemistry. Jace was giving me safety. Security. Power. Choice.
“So…now what?” My heart thumped so hard, I was sure it was all he could hear.
“What do you want to do?”
I thought about that for a second, and my gaze snagged on his shirt. I was fascinated by the way the material clung to him, highlighting every plane and angle in light and shadow from the end table lamp. “I want to touch you.” He was the first man I’d ever voluntarily touched and the only one I could imagine ever wanting to touch.
Jace’s gaze burned through me. “Say it again.”
My pulse swooshed in my ears, and I felt a little dizzy. “I want to touch you.”
“I’m all yours.” He leaned back against the arm of the couch and spread his arms, giving me free rein.
I hesitated, nerves constricting my throat. But then hedonistic curiosity got the better of me. I climbed onto Jace’s lap, holding his gaze, and sat with my knees on either side of his hips. The warmth of his legs beneath me felt both intimate and contained, filtered through a layer of denim. I lifted his shirt, and his heart thumped harder. His arms rose when I tugged the material up, and I realized he was truly going to let me do whatever I wanted.
I slid the shirt over his arms, letting my fingers trail over his flesh, feeling him breathe beneath me. Each inhalation was slow and controlled. Jace was raw power contained by impervious restraint, like the depths of the ocean raging beneath a calm surface. I could dive deeper whenever I liked, or I could float on the top, skimming untold potential until I was ready.
I grew more ready with every second.
Jace’s shirt hit the floor, but his gaze stayed glued to mine, watching each thought flit across my face as I explored. Tested. His body was a miracle, tight, and hard, and smooth. And—like all shifters—so very warm. I ran my hands over his shoulders and chest, memorizing the feel of features I’d seen a million times.
Then, I needed a taste.
I leaned forward, and he shifted beneath me, giving me greater access. My hair skimmed his arm. My lips touched the warm skin above his left nipple, and he stopped breathing. His hand twitched against my arm, as if he wanted to reach for me, but his restraint was ironclad. He would not touch me until I asked him to.
Emboldened by that knowledge, I dared a taste of his skin. Jace groaned. Something twitched beneath me and I sucked in a breath. He was unmistakably aroused.
I froze, unsure what to do, but he didn’t mention it, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable, so…
I bent to kiss his chest again, which made me rock against him. When he clutched the back of the couch, I felt an intense rush of power. This was because of me. Because he wanted me. If I wanted to see the proof that he wanted me, he would let me, and if I wanted to touch it, he would let me do that too. And if I didn’t want any of that, none of it would happen. He would just hold my hand while I fell asleep next to him, fully clothed.
There were no rules. He would not hurt me. I could leave whenever I wanted.
Or I could stay.
I licked a light path down his chest, and the lower my tongue traveled, the shallower and faster his breaths became. To give myself better reach, I slid down onto his thighs, and the brush of my most sensitive places against his denim-clad leg triggered a new and intimate ache. When that ache echoed in my breasts, I realized my nipples were hard—and that Jace could see them through my thin pajama top.
My heart thudding almost painfully, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on top of his. Jace’s pulse rushed faster and his pupils dilated, but he only watched me, waiting to see what I wanted.
I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. “I…umm….” My cheeks burned, and trepidation tripped through my veins with every beat of my heart. I was scared, but not scared enough to stop. “I want something.”
Jace’s gaze was glazed with desire, as hot and heavy as my own private ache. “Name it.”
“I want you to touch me.”
For a second, I was afraid he’d ask questions I couldn’t answer, like how or where, but Jace only gave me a smoldering smile and slid one hand around the back of my neck, then gently pulled me down for a kiss. He sucked lightly on my lower lip, tracing it with his tongue, and his free hand grazed my side. His palm slowly brushed the side of my breast, his fingers curling around the back of my rib cage, and I held my breath, alive with exhilaration. But his hands stayed steady as we kissed, and that ache inside me swelled.
“More,” I whispered, as his mouth trailed down my throat again. That time, when his erection twitched beneath me, a jolt of anticipation shot up my spine from the heat gathering low within me.
Jace’s hand slid forward to cup my breast, lifting it, and my nipples tightened into aching points. His thumb brushed over one and my head fell back. I pressed myself into his grip, wordlessly requesting more contact. Jace’s hands slid up my back, supporting my weight, and his lips grazed the underside of my breast.
I clutched his arm as he licked a hot, slow path toward the peak. Anticipation throbbed within me, and when he finally took my nipple into his mouth, I groaned, instinctively shifting against his leg in search of friction I hadn’t even realized I wanted. I’d never felt like that before. Hot and swollen, and in need of something I’d never expected to want.
“Lower,” I whispered. “Please.”
Jace groaned around my nipple. His hand slid down my stomach, slowly, giving me plenty of time to change my mind, while my anticipation built, and finally his fingers landed where I wanted them.
With that first delicious, brazenly intimate touch, I understood what I’d been denied before.
Desire.
I was overflowing with it. Swollen with it. I wanted Jace like I’d never wanted anyone or anything in my entire life.
His fingers stroked slowly, gently through the satin, and the pressure building inside me rose toward some mysterious carnal conclusion. “Under,” I gasped, my voice a breathless whisper.
Jace’s tongue trailed toward my neglected nipple as his thighs spread beneath me, making more room for his hand. His fingers pushed aside the strip of cloth I still wore and he groaned against the swell of my breast. “You are so wet.”
I hardly heard him. I heard only the frantic rush of his pulse. I felt only the steady pace of his fingers, stroking, teasing, building. “Oh!” I breathed, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth. “Jace! More!”
“So…now what?” My heart thumped so hard, I was sure it was all he could hear.
“What do you want to do?”
I thought about that for a second, and my gaze snagged on his shirt. I was fascinated by the way the material clung to him, highlighting every plane and angle in light and shadow from the end table lamp. “I want to touch you.” He was the first man I’d ever voluntarily touched and the only one I could imagine ever wanting to touch.
Jace’s gaze burned through me. “Say it again.”
My pulse swooshed in my ears, and I felt a little dizzy. “I want to touch you.”
“I’m all yours.” He leaned back against the arm of the couch and spread his arms, giving me free rein.
I hesitated, nerves constricting my throat. But then hedonistic curiosity got the better of me. I climbed onto Jace’s lap, holding his gaze, and sat with my knees on either side of his hips. The warmth of his legs beneath me felt both intimate and contained, filtered through a layer of denim. I lifted his shirt, and his heart thumped harder. His arms rose when I tugged the material up, and I realized he was truly going to let me do whatever I wanted.
I slid the shirt over his arms, letting my fingers trail over his flesh, feeling him breathe beneath me. Each inhalation was slow and controlled. Jace was raw power contained by impervious restraint, like the depths of the ocean raging beneath a calm surface. I could dive deeper whenever I liked, or I could float on the top, skimming untold potential until I was ready.
I grew more ready with every second.
Jace’s shirt hit the floor, but his gaze stayed glued to mine, watching each thought flit across my face as I explored. Tested. His body was a miracle, tight, and hard, and smooth. And—like all shifters—so very warm. I ran my hands over his shoulders and chest, memorizing the feel of features I’d seen a million times.
Then, I needed a taste.
I leaned forward, and he shifted beneath me, giving me greater access. My hair skimmed his arm. My lips touched the warm skin above his left nipple, and he stopped breathing. His hand twitched against my arm, as if he wanted to reach for me, but his restraint was ironclad. He would not touch me until I asked him to.
Emboldened by that knowledge, I dared a taste of his skin. Jace groaned. Something twitched beneath me and I sucked in a breath. He was unmistakably aroused.
I froze, unsure what to do, but he didn’t mention it, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable, so…
I bent to kiss his chest again, which made me rock against him. When he clutched the back of the couch, I felt an intense rush of power. This was because of me. Because he wanted me. If I wanted to see the proof that he wanted me, he would let me, and if I wanted to touch it, he would let me do that too. And if I didn’t want any of that, none of it would happen. He would just hold my hand while I fell asleep next to him, fully clothed.
There were no rules. He would not hurt me. I could leave whenever I wanted.
Or I could stay.
I licked a light path down his chest, and the lower my tongue traveled, the shallower and faster his breaths became. To give myself better reach, I slid down onto his thighs, and the brush of my most sensitive places against his denim-clad leg triggered a new and intimate ache. When that ache echoed in my breasts, I realized my nipples were hard—and that Jace could see them through my thin pajama top.
My heart thudding almost painfully, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on top of his. Jace’s pulse rushed faster and his pupils dilated, but he only watched me, waiting to see what I wanted.
I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. “I…umm….” My cheeks burned, and trepidation tripped through my veins with every beat of my heart. I was scared, but not scared enough to stop. “I want something.”
Jace’s gaze was glazed with desire, as hot and heavy as my own private ache. “Name it.”
“I want you to touch me.”
For a second, I was afraid he’d ask questions I couldn’t answer, like how or where, but Jace only gave me a smoldering smile and slid one hand around the back of my neck, then gently pulled me down for a kiss. He sucked lightly on my lower lip, tracing it with his tongue, and his free hand grazed my side. His palm slowly brushed the side of my breast, his fingers curling around the back of my rib cage, and I held my breath, alive with exhilaration. But his hands stayed steady as we kissed, and that ache inside me swelled.
“More,” I whispered, as his mouth trailed down my throat again. That time, when his erection twitched beneath me, a jolt of anticipation shot up my spine from the heat gathering low within me.
Jace’s hand slid forward to cup my breast, lifting it, and my nipples tightened into aching points. His thumb brushed over one and my head fell back. I pressed myself into his grip, wordlessly requesting more contact. Jace’s hands slid up my back, supporting my weight, and his lips grazed the underside of my breast.
I clutched his arm as he licked a hot, slow path toward the peak. Anticipation throbbed within me, and when he finally took my nipple into his mouth, I groaned, instinctively shifting against his leg in search of friction I hadn’t even realized I wanted. I’d never felt like that before. Hot and swollen, and in need of something I’d never expected to want.
“Lower,” I whispered. “Please.”
Jace groaned around my nipple. His hand slid down my stomach, slowly, giving me plenty of time to change my mind, while my anticipation built, and finally his fingers landed where I wanted them.
With that first delicious, brazenly intimate touch, I understood what I’d been denied before.
Desire.
I was overflowing with it. Swollen with it. I wanted Jace like I’d never wanted anyone or anything in my entire life.
His fingers stroked slowly, gently through the satin, and the pressure building inside me rose toward some mysterious carnal conclusion. “Under,” I gasped, my voice a breathless whisper.
Jace’s tongue trailed toward my neglected nipple as his thighs spread beneath me, making more room for his hand. His fingers pushed aside the strip of cloth I still wore and he groaned against the swell of my breast. “You are so wet.”
I hardly heard him. I heard only the frantic rush of his pulse. I felt only the steady pace of his fingers, stroking, teasing, building. “Oh!” I breathed, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth. “Jace! More!”
