Man of Her Dreams by Debra Webb (best smutty novels txt) 📗

his every move. Downward, tracing the shapes of her legs only to make their way along her inner thighs, those long masculine fingers set every inch of her on fire.

He kissed his way up her rib cage until he encountered her breasts. He pressed his face between them, the feel of his breath on her skin fueling the frenzy already out of control inside her. This was too much. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t wait any longer.

She gasped when he stood, towered above her. Before she could think of what he intended, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the kitchen. He sat her on the counter next to the fridge. Another gasp slipped past her lips at the cold feel of tile beneath her bottom. She shivered…started to ask what he was doing, but his focused movements overwhelmed her ability to speak.

Leaving her sitting there, he fumbled in the freezer compartment, then came back to her with a handful of ice cubes. He dropped them on the counter. Something intensely carnal surged inside her as the cubes slid this way and that.

There was something primal in his eyes…something savage. She sucked in a sharp breath at the ferocity of it.

He picked up one of the ice cubes and touched her. She caught her breath. With slow, aching precision, he made a path down her chest, over her breast and around her nipple. Her eyes closed. She pressed her head back against the cabinet, her fingers clutching at the counter on either side of her. He licked at the water left behind by the ice. Suckled at her breast.

She had to touch him…couldn’t resist. Her fingers threaded into his hair as he alternately cooled her flesh with the ice and set her aflame with his mouth. She whimpered and moaned, begging without words for him to stop torturing her. But he was relentless. He would not stop touching her, tasting her, tantalizing her skin with the fire and ice.

His mouth moved lower, closer to the part of her throbbing for his attention. He hadn’t even touched her there and she felt ready to explode.

Images filtered through her mind—the two of them, their bodies connected in the most intimate of ways. Him plunging into her, her rising to meet his every thrust. He filled her so completely, over and over again.

Orgasm came in an unexpected rush.

She screamed his name.

He was there. Not the fantasy…the real thing. Kissing her, whispering sweet words to her. Just envisioning making love with him had made her come. How would she ever bear the real thing?

She felt herself being lifted, felt him crush her against his chest as he carried her. She couldn’t make her eyes open, even when he lowered her onto the bed.

She reached for him, but he was no longer there. Her eyes opened, searched the nearly dark room. The sound of fabric sliding over skin drew her attention to the foot of the bed. He straightened, tossed aside his trousers and briefs.

He was magnificent. Perfect. Every powerful muscle defined so beautifully. Her eyes marveled in the strength of his masculine body, in the generous size of his sex.

Like a sleek panther about to close in on its prey, he climbed onto the end of the bed, moved onto all fours, that glittering dark gaze focused intently on her.

Trembling like a lamb about to be presented up for slaughter, she reached out to him…needed to make the connection complete.

He drew back slightly, just out of her reach.

She scrambled onto all fours, matching his dominant stance, ready to fight for what she wanted. They watched each other warily for a few moments, then he made the first move. He twined his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer. She turned her head when he would have claimed her mouth.

Her heart thundered, her mind whirled with confusion. He wanted her…she wanted him. But she didn’t understand why he didn’t take her completely, or why she taunted him. She simply could not help herself.

He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered roughly, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

She turned her face to his. “Yes. Aren’t you?”

He wanted her. She knew he did.

He cradled her face in his hands and drew her mouth closer to his. But instead of kissing her, he murmured, “I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

She nipped at his lips with her teeth. “Then take me. I’m yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.”

His mouth closed over hers and the confusion and uncertainty melted away. He lowered her onto the bed, coming down on top of her. Her legs went around his as his weight settled against her. The slightly rougher feel of his, dusted with masculine hair, made her giddy.

It felt more right than anything she’d ever experienced. They belonged together. The intimate knowledge settled over her, inside her.

His fingers entwined with hers, he nudged her and she spread her legs wider in invitation. Her whole being yearned for him…needed only him. He stared deeply into her eyes as he pushed slowly inside her. The resistance he met gave him pause, he hesitated. But she urged him on, wriggling her hips and trying to open wider.

He kissed her—long and slow—until she relaxed so completely that she couldn’t think of anything else but his lips moving on hers, his tongue teasing hers.

He pushed deeper inside and she came again even as he made the seal complete, filling her to capacity and then some. He drank in the sounds of her release as if it were an intoxicating brew, held her hands tighter, pressed his hips more firmly into hers, absorbing ripple after ripple of her pleasure.

She didn’t know how many minutes had passed with him kissing her mouth, her face, her throat. She might have blacked out…still couldn’t catch her breath. He moved his hips only a little, as if he feared hurting her.

He was holding back, allowing her to enjoy all the pleasure while he restrained himself. She pulled