“That’s what happens when you get a tattoo on the back of your neck.” I drop a kiss on each bird, making her shiver. “Do you have more?”
“You’ll have to search my body and find out.”
Her words are just the invitation I want to hear. I slide down the length of her, my lips mapping her skin, making note of the spots where she jerks away because she’s too sensitive or where she moans when I find a spot that must feel particularly good. She’s ticklish, especially around her ribs, on the back of her thighs, behind her knees. I even kiss her feet, the soft soles, lightly tonguing her toes. She giggles and I find another tattoo, this one on the side of her left foot, a pretty little pink flower.
“A hibiscus,” she explains when I trace the delicate design. “I’ve always had a thing for them.”
I don’t say a word, just continue to kiss my way back up her body until I’m gently flipping her over at her waist and she goes willingly. Lifting up, I straddle her hips, staring down at her, my gaze zeroing in on her breasts. That’s when I spot yet another tattoo, this one curving just beneath her right breast. A scattering of stars, like a constellation. I trace them with my finger, goose bumps forming in my wake.
They represent something, a part of her. What, I’m not exactly sure, but there must be a meaning for the tattoos she chooses.
I want to find out those meanings. The meaning of Lily. There’s more to her than she leads on. She’s not just some sexy rich girl out looking for a good time, no matter how hard she tries to push that image. It’s a front. There’s something deeper playing behind the scenes. There’s a reason she’s on the run, why Pilar hates her so damn much, why Lily’s hiding.
I want to discover all of her secrets. Fuck the job. Fuck what I’m supposed to take from her, this woman who’s naked and beautiful and wants me just as much as I want her.
At least for tonight. All I want to do, all I can think about, is fucking Lily.
“Are there more?” I cock a brow.
Her smile is mysterious. “Search and see for yourself.”
That means there are definitely more. And I can’t wait to find them.
HIS BIG, WARM HANDS roam all over my body and set my skin on fire everywhere he touches. I really like his hands. Those long, skilled fingers that are slightly callous and the wide palms—one of them alone can practically span the width of my ass and that’s kind of amazing.
He’s palming my ass now, rubbing it, slapping the side of one cheek and watching it jiggle. I jolt when he slaps it again, harder this time, and I mumble a shocked, “That hurts.”
I’ve had guys spank me before but I didn’t enjoy it. At all. More like, the spanking irritated me. It felt like they were trying to claim me as their own personal piece of property to do with whatever they wanted. Oh, I’d always put on a show for them, gasping and squealing and acting like it turned me on.
It never turned me on. But the way Max is touching me, smoothing his palm over my stinging flesh just before he slaps it again, well …
I’m aroused. Wet. I lift up on my knees a little bit, pushing my ass into his hand—again—and he takes the hint, slapping it so hard the sound reverberates throughout the quiet room¸ and I swear I hear a grunt of satisfaction come from him at the exact same time I moan.
“You like that, princess?” He’s caressing the spot where he smacked me, his fingers so gentle my heart flutters. “I can see how pink your skin is even in the dark.”
The moon is bright, painting the room in silver, gilding his sharp features, his beautiful mouth. I watch him from over my shoulder, my arm resting beneath my head, my ass in the air. “I like it,” I admit, my voice quiet. I say nothing else because I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing. Or worse, that I’ll say too much and make a fool of myself.
“Interesting.” His hand moves to my other butt cheek and he taps it, lightly. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I start to laugh, then clamp my lips shut when I see the serious glow in his eyes. “I’m glad you like it,” I say, feeling ridiculous as I turn away from him.
“I like everything about you I’ve uncovered so far.” My gaze returns to his, shocked by his admission, but he says nothing more. He slips his fingers between my cheeks, skimming over my damp folds, and his eyes narrow as he dips his fingers deeper. “Damn, baby girl, you’re soaked.”
I should be embarrassed. Overabundant wetness is something I rarely have to worry about when I’m with a guy. I mean yeah, they’ve aroused me, a few have given me orgasms, or I touch myself and make sure I gain my satisfaction when they do. But with this man in particular … I’m aching. My clit is throbbing and my pussy feels … empty. I want to know what it feels like to have his cock move inside me. I won’t be satisfied until that happens, and I hope to God it does.
I’m desperate for it. For him.
“You must really like it when I spank you,” he says almost reverently. He sounds downright fascinated by the possibility and I’m more than a little mortified. He’s probably not really into that sort of thing … Wait a minute.
Maybe he is. He did ask for my complete submission before we started. And he crept into my room like some sort of sexy thief, sneaking into my bed and touching me while he thought I slept. The entire scenario had been amazingly hot, fueling the long dormant fantasies I’d kept hidden from the world.