All That He Wants Part 1

Lily Ross was having another miserable day at work when tall, dark, and stunningly handsome walked in.

When she's least expecting it, mysterious Connor Brooks turns Lily's world upside down and plunges her into a torrid, passionate love affair that might just ruin her life... or save it.

Steamy excerpt (Mature content):

    He just grinned at me, then gestured at my face. “You have a little, uh, foam on your lip.”
    Wonderful. Here I was thinking this was all playfully romantic, when in reality he was joking around with me like a good ol’ gal pal while I had stuff all over my mouth. Great.
    I touched the side of my mouth and tried to wipe it off gracefully.
    “Here, I’ll – just hold still, ” he said, and reached out and touched my face.
    Maybe it was the darkness. Maybe it was his plan all along… but his finger overshot just the tiniest bit, and brushed ever so softly against my bottom lip instead.
    Pleasure jolted my entire body. The warmth and softness of his skin, the scent of his cologne, the intimacy of his touch on one of the most sensitive parts of my body…
    It tickled where he touched me, but there was also the incredibly sensual caress of his skin against my lip.
    I immediately felt heat build between my thighs. A thrill of pleasure shot into my belly.
    Especially when he didn’t move his finger away from my lips.
    His eyes locked onto mine. For the first time, the mask fell away. No more joking, no more teasing; I saw the desire on his face, a look of wanting that almost bordered on pain.
    He moved his finger the slightest bit more, gliding soooo slowly across my lower lip.
    I moaned. Softly, but I moaned.
    I blushed furiously as soon as I heard myself – it was entirely involuntary – but it was how I felt. A sound that had escaped from the deepest part of me.
    I guess it fanned his fire, too, because he touched the other fingers of his hand to my cheek as his finger traced softly across my lip.
    I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted him so bad.
    I opened my lips, and I took him inside my mouth.
    Just a finger – and just the tip. But I began to suck slowly, running my tongue sensuously over his skin.
    And oh how I wished it was another part of his body I had in my mouth.
    The sensation must have been too much for him, because his expression of desire became an almost ravenous hunger.
    He pulled his finger away from my lips, moved in, and kissed me.
    Took me.
    Possessed me.
    His arms enveloped me, one encircling my waist and the other moving up my back.
    He crushed me against him – not forcing himself on me, but pressing me tight against him.
    His body was heavenly, firm and strong beneath his clothes. I clutched the back of his jacket, feeling the wall of well-sculpted muscles beneath my hands.
    And his mouth… ohhhhhh…
    His lips pressed against mine, firm but gentle. He brushed them across my skin, the same way he had inflamed me just seconds ago with his touch.
    I opened my lips wide, inviting him in.
    His tongue met mine… slowly… gently… taking his time. He alternated between using just his lips, then slowly caressing my tongue with his, the most arousing kiss I’d ever had in my life.
    His hand around my waist slowly dropped down to my rear end and cupped my cheek, feeling my curves, then pressed me against his hips.
    I couldn’t see anything – my eyes were closed and I was completely lost in the kiss – but there was this very long, very thick, very hard pressure between me and him. He was fully aroused – he had to have been.
    Before I slept with them, I had felt several boyfriends’ erections through their pants during makeout sessions – but I had never felt something like that before.
    Nothing that massive.
    I had to touch it.
    I was dying to touch it.
    I had to feel it in my hand.
    I let my fingers drift down below his belt and grazed my hand along the cloth.
    No matter how wet I was before, a couple of seconds later I was drenched.
    I was not what you would call experienced. One boyfriend in high school, two in college, and a guy I had dated three months before I left for Los Angeles. All nice guys. All a bit taller than me, all fairly cute, all of average build, and every one of them pretty much the same ‘down there.’ Sex had ranged from fair to good, and I had just assumed that size didn’t matter much. Except for the actors I saw in porn clips (usually viewed with my fingers over my eyes as my second college boyfriend laughed at me and tried to get me to watch), I figured 99% of the male population was built a certain way, and I probably wasn’t ever going to run into the 1%.
    I had apparently just run into it.
    As my fingers traced the amazing length and cupped the substantial girth of the shape in his pants, I let out another moan.
    I was sooooo turned on it wasn’t funny.
    I didn’t even know why. Porn clips definitely didn’t do it for me. Guys in those videos made me go ewww instead of aaahhh.
    I guess it was that I was so wildly turned on by him anyway, that the size of him… it sparked something deep inside of me. I felt so feminine as I held him, overwhelmed by the sheer masculinity of him.
    Then his hand closed around mine and forced me to grip that thick, hard shape even tighter.
    He pulled his mouth away from mine and moved his lips to my ear.
    “You feel that?” he growled – so low it was a whisper, the tickle of air on my skin exciting me even more.
    I nodded silently, because I couldn’t speak. I didn’t trust myself – I was afraid if I tried to answer, I might start moaning again. Continuously and loudly.
    “YOU do that to me,” he breathed. “YOU make me hard like that.”

Copyright 2012-2016 Olivia Thorne
No part of this excerpt may be reprinted or reused without author's permission.

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