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The Look of Love

Page 22

   


“It’s inevitable, isn’t it?”
Hell yes, it was. But he couldn’t put words in her mouth. Not now.
“What’s inevitable?” Each word was raw. Husky.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth.
“This kiss.”
Chapter Seven
As Chloe threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his face down to hers, it took every ounce of control Chase possessed to keep his hands on the rail.
But when her lips touched his, just a whisper of a kiss...his control was lost.
He wanted to touch her everywhere at once, but it was a straight shot from the rail to her lower back and the curve of her hips.
Her mouth was so soft, so damn sweet, as she pressed one kiss after another against his lips. If he could, he would have prolonged the gentle exploration. But he’d been waiting too damn long for this kiss. Running one hand up her spine, he cupped the back of her neck and held her captive beneath him while he tasted her.
She gasped against his mouth, and somewhere in the back of his head he started to wonder if he was hurting her. And then he felt it: Her tongue coming out to stroke against his.
Jesus, he’d thought about this moment a thousand times in the past twenty-four hours, but nothing he’d come up with, nothing he’d envisioned in his fantasies, even came close to the reality of how soft, how sweet, how sensual kissing Chloe really was.
Chase had always loved kissing. To his surprise, most women liked to rush past that part of their sensual dance. But as far as he was concerned, a kiss could be just as good as full-blown sex.
Better, even.
Especially when he was kissing Chloe.
He could spend hours on her mouth and, judging by the way she was kissing him back, he had a feeling she would be up for exactly that.
Slowly stroking his tongue against hers, he reveled in the taste of her, the feel of her, the little moans of pleasure she was making as they connected so intimately. Pulling back slightly, he gently sucked her lower lip in between his teeth for a nip, being sure to give her upper lip the same treatment. And then their tongues were back at it until she did the same to his mouth, tasting, taking, nipping, biting his flesh so perfectly.
“Chloe.” He groaned her name against her lips and she licked across his before looking at him, flushed and lovely and awash with desire.
“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”
The innocence of her words, the look on her face—like she’d just experienced heaven—had him taking her lips again. Devouring them.
Chase didn’t have any idea how long they kissed like a man and a woman who were starving for each other, but all the while he was intensely aware of the soft press of her br**sts against his chest, along with the sexy curve of her hips where he was holding her against him. He was torn between continuing to kiss her and tasting his way down her incredible body.
Just then she shifted slightly in his arms, pressing her br**sts and hips even closer into him, and the decision was taken away from him.
He’d been blessed enough to see her beautiful naked skin when he’d walked in on her in the bathtub the previous evening. But he hadn’t been able to touch her. He hadn’t been able to run his tongue over her. He hadn’t been able to kiss every dip and curve.
Now, he could have all that.
Chase began to run kisses over her face, across her cheekbones, over her chin, down to her neck. He licked into the hollow of her collarbones and felt her weight come more firmly against him, as if she could barely hold herself up.
Chase had learned early on how to elicit a sensual response from women and he’d always enjoyed their pleasure as much as his own. But Chloe’s response—and his need for her—was different from that of any other woman he’d been with.
He ran his tongue over her skin again and the softly desperate sound she made had him moving his hand from where he’d been cupping her neck down to a thin, silky strap on her shoulder. She was soft, so damn soft that he almost lost the thread of what he was doing, but then she took a deep, shaking breath, her br**sts moving against his chest, swelling up beneath the top of her dress.
And he remembered exactly why he needed to slide the strap off her lovely skin.
A picture of her br**sts—water from the bathtub beading and sliding over her soft flesh—was forever imprinted on his brain. And now that he was just seconds away from touching, tasting them, Chase could barely get his hands to work right.
He needed to get the straps off.
And then, silk was sliding down over her shoulders and he didn’t even need to give her dress a yank, because Chloe was two steps ahead of him, lifting her arms from the confines of her dress and shimmying her upper body so that the bodice slipped one inch, and then another, and then one more still, until her br**sts popped out from beneath the thin fabric.
Chase froze as he drank her in. Her br**sts were perfect, full and round, beautifully natural in the way they lay against her chest, tipped up to him with desire.
Finally coming unstuck, but still utterly mesmerized, his hands warred with his mouth for the pleasure of being the first to touch her.
His hands won by a hair as he reached out to cup her.
“Oh God. Chase.”
He tore his gaze away from her br**sts, from the contrast of her pale skin against his tanned fingers, to see that she was staring intently at exactly the same thing. Her eyes lifted to his a moment later and the look in them had him dropping his mouth to hers again, her br**sts still in his hands.
Their kiss took on a different sheen this time, the desperation for each other kicking up another notch. Chloe was rubbing her br**sts harder against his hands, almost as if she were begging for something.
For more.
“Watch, Chloe.” Pulling back from her mouth, he trained his gaze back on her br**sts as he ran his thumbs over the taut peaks. “Look how responsive you are to my touch.”
She whimpered as he caressed the taut flesh again, harder this time, and then again. Her skin puckered beneath his thumb.
“Please.”
He barely heard her request, the sound more a breath than a word, but he needed the exact same thing she did.
Chase bent his head down and she arched her back to make herself more available to him. In one smooth motion, he laved his tongue over her soft skin. A part of him wanted to spend the rest of his time there, with his tongue on her br**sts, running it across every inch of her soft skin, over both peaks. But his lips, his teeth, had other ideas, and it was barely a moment later that he was closing his mouth down over her, swirling his tongue over her even as his teeth lightly scraped the rigid flesh.