The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair, #1) novel Chapter 25

“Whoa, there . . .”

As soon as she’s settled, she releases a pleased sigh, her cheeks rosy with laughter. I kneel on the carpet before her, our hands intertwined in her lap.

“You’re so graceful,” I say, lifting an eyebrow.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up. I already know I’m not anything like your fancy escorts.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her face galls, but then I lift her hand to my lips, and press a soft kiss there that’s reminiscent of our first date. She sucks in a quiet breath, her chest rising with anticipation.

Looking at her now with her long dark hair mussed, her little black dress pushing and pulling at her body in all the right ways . . . I want her. Before I can think too hard about it, I lean into her and inhale against her neck. She shivers.

I could tease this woman forever and never get bored.

Presley isn’t in the mood to be teased, however. She yanks at my tie, her lips making contact with my throat as she kisses a little line across my Adam’s apple.

I release a sharp exhale and lift her chin, pressing my lips to hers. Presley’s hooded eyes sink closed.

My kisses start soft, just chaste presses of my lips to hers. But ever eager to please, Presley parts her lips, and then I’m tasting her. Wine mixes with the sweet flavor of Presley as our tongues touch. She makes a soft, hungry noise in the back of her throat as I thread my hands through her silky hair, tilting her head back.

Pressing hot, hungry kisses against her neck, I’m eager to hear more of the sounds she made in the car. I promised I’d take my time with her, but she’s testing my patience like no other woman has.

My lips never leave her skin as I lay her back onto the bed, and we roll into the center together. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. Her body is so warm, so soft. I want to pin her down, press myself against her, claim her . . .

When she murmurs my name, I drag my teeth lightly across her collarbone, and her hips jolt. My hand slides down her side to cup her round ass, pulling her firmly against me. The way she rubs against me, I can tell that she feels my hard length against her thigh.

“Tell me,” I whisper as I kiss down her chest.

I can tell she’s aching for me to touch her breasts. I want to, but not as badly as I want her to want it. Massaging her perfect ass with one hand, I trail the other in a tantalizing line down her breastbone. Lower and lower, I drag my fingertips lightly over the soft material of her dress.