Page 52 of The Perfect Deception

Adam pulled away from her with great care, one body part at a time, as if he couldn’t bear any part of him to be sep­a­rated from her. De­sire and need matched her own.

With a nod, she pulled off her shirt.

He took a step back, swayed and reached for her. His hands landed on her breasts and his thumbs ca­ressed her nip­ples through her bra. She arched her back as her nip­ples tight­ened, and he of­fered a wolf-like grin.

“You like that.”

Over­come by the sen­sa­tions, she couldn’t speak. She nod­ded and reached for his shirt. Her fin­gers fum­bled with the but­tons un­til he ripped it open, pop­ping the rest of them. Out of the cor­ner of her eye, she saw them bounce on the fluffy car­pet, but she couldn’t avert her gaze from his mus­cu­lar chest.

Now she could see what her fin­gers had touched and she wanted more. Lean­ing for­ward, she licked his chest and he gasped.

“Woman, you’re killing me.” He dropped his head back with a groan and his hands shook on her shoul­ders.

With a low chuckle, she con­tin­ued, trail­ing her tongue and lips across his chest, tast­ing salt and sweat and man.

With­out warn­ing, he pulled away from her, bent down and with one arm around her shoul­ders and the other be­neath her knees, lifted her up as though she weighed noth­ing.

Dina knew that not to be true.

“What are you do­ing?” De­spite her state of un­dress, his body warmed her.

“Hav­ing my way with you,” he said, stalk­ing to the sofa and low­er­ing her onto it. He fol­lowed. She leaned against the back of the sofa and he braced his knees on ei­ther side of her hips, and stared at her. His gaze took in ev­ery inch of her and she re­al­ized he had be­come the hero in her very own ro­mance.

“You’re beau­ti­ful,” he said, and reached out to undo her bra clasp. When her breasts came free he filled his hands with them. If his thumbs had aroused her through her bra be­fore, they al­most sent her over the edge now.

She bucked and he tight­ened his thighs around her, fol­low­ing her body’s move­ments as if he were rid­ing her. Her hands rose rest­lessly and she reached for him. Shift­ing be­neath him, she felt him harden. Some­thing flut­tered low in her stom­ach.

“I need you now.” His voice was hoarse and he leaned away from her, un­do­ing his belt and yank­ing at his pants.

Oh my God, she was go­ing to see him naked.

Her heart thud­ded in her chest. She thought about stop­ping him, but that flut­ter­ing in­side her in­creased and all thoughts of stop­ping or slow­ing down dis­ap­peared. She wanted him, needed him, too. He climbed off her and watched as she wrig­gled her hips to re­move her pants. His nos­trils flared at her move­ments and within mo­ments, they were naked.

To­gether.

He pulled open a con­dom packet from the pocket of his jeans and laid her be­neath him. She stared up into eyes so green they were al­most emer­ald. Skin against skin, all kinds of tin­gling sen­sa­tions pulsed through her, ze­ro­ing in low in her belly as he rolled the con­dom on. He kissed her, open-mouthed and his tongue gave her a pre­view of what they would do. She ro­tated her hips and he trailed his hand from her cheek, along her neck, around her breasts down to where her body pulsed. His fin­gers teased her folds and her breath came in short gasps. He rose and hov­ered over her, the cool air be­tween them frus­trat­ing her. She needed him in her. Now.

As if hear­ing her silent de­mand, he low­ered him­self and en­tered her, paus­ing barely a mo­ment for her to ad­just be­fore rhyth­mi­cally mov­ing in­side of her. She stretched, try­ing to ac­com­mo­date him, want­ing to feel the pres­sure build once again. When he brushed his fin­gers against her, she gasped.

She ran her hands along his back, rev­el­ing in the feel of him as their hips rocked to­gether. His breath­ing grew heav­ier and she closed her eyes as her need built. He with­drew par­tially be­fore plung­ing in­side of her once again, and the pres­sure that had built within her ex­ploded into shards of light be­hind her eye­lids. His cli­max fol­lowed closely be­hind hers, his shout echo­ing off the walls, be­fore he col­lapsed against her.

Their hearts beat to­gether as slowly their breath­ing calmed and their sweat cooled. He made lazy cir­cles on her arms as his head rested on her chest. She was bliss­fully spent and had no de­sire to move.

If she did, they’d have to talk about what they’d just done and why. They’d have to dis­cuss where to go from here.

Chap­ter Four­teen

The first thing he no­ticed was the pound­ing in his head. The sec­ond thing he no­ticed was the smell—a mix of al­co­hol and sex.

Dina.

Im­ages of their time to­gether flooded his brain, but they were fuzzy, more like im­pres­sions re­ally. The springi­ness of her hair, the scent of her skin, some stum­bling around.

The ut­ter bliss of mak­ing love.

His eyes flew open as he un­stuck his cheek from the leather sofa. Sex had never been about love be­fore. But with Dina? It was a pos­si­bil­ity. He squinted in the harsh sun­light bathing his liv­ing room. He was alone. Forc­ing down the panic that knowl­edge al­ways caused him, he sat up, care­ful not to dis­turb the rocks in his head. Where was Dina?

“Dina?” There was no an­swer.