“Your turn,” she directed, then gestured to his boxing shorts.
A dirty smirk pinched his lips. “You want me naked, plum?”
“It’s for purely academic reasons.”
“Is that so?” he queried.
“It could assist in inducing arousal,” she answered with another ridiculous wrist flick. She’d come down with carpal tunnel if she kept this up.
Raz’s cocky smirk, which was, surprisingly, starting to grow on her, stretched into a dirty grin as he took off his shoes, then removed his shorts and his boxer briefs. The man stood, towering over her, and her jaw dropped. Erasmus Cress possessed what could only be described as one magnificent cock. Rock-hard, the man was glorious—a buck-naked gladiator with great hair to boot.
She’d had a decent amount of sex in her life. But no man had ever exuded this kind of magnetic masculinity before. If she knew anything about sculpting, she’d spend her last penny on clay and recreate this man’s appendage for humanity to appreciate. However, there was no way she would admit this to him.
Play it cool! This is an academic exercise. Science, think about science.
“From my vantage point, you appear to possess adequate equipment for our experiment,” she observed, like an idiot, gawking at his manhood.
Thirsty much, Libby Lamb?
“And what about you?” he asked in a low, sexy rumble. “Don’t I get to assess your equipment?”
“Here I am,” she replied, raising her arm in a ta-da position.
“Your knickers, plum,” he remarked, zeroing in on the most boring shade of beige known to mankind.
She stared at her panties. “You want me to take them off?”
“For purely academic reasons,” he answered, stealing her words.
And burning Buddha’s balls, it had gotten hot!
She slid the beige fabric down her legs, then kicked her underwear onto the pile of clothing. Naked and completely exposed, she released her hair from its bun and shook it out. The long, black waves passed her shoulders as the locks teased her taut nipples.
“Libby Lamb, look at me,” Raz said, no, commanded.
She flicked her gaze from the pile of clothing, then observed as the man’s expression grew positively carnal.
“You’re an absolute stunner, but it’s your eyes, plum,” he remarked, moving toward her like a predator, closing in on its prey.
“What about them?” she whispered.
He brushed her hair over to one shoulder. “It’s like they can see everything,” he rasped, the raw honesty of his statement striking like an arrow to her heart.
“That’s not what this is about,” she replied, working to maintain the conviction in her voice.
“No, it’s not. This is just sex,” he agreed—or did he? He’d spoken the words, but that little voice inside her head wasn’t so sure he’d meant it.
He dropped a kiss to her shoulder, and every ounce of rational thought drained from her brain. She released an audible sigh, then gripped the washing machine as Raz pinned her between himself and the vibrating device.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, making good on his announcement as his lips trailed along her skin. “Then I’ll touch you,” he added, skimming his hands down her torso. “And after that, I plan on thrusting my cock inside of you and making you come so hard, your O will get down on its little O knees and beg for more. Does that work with your curriculum, plum?”
Oh, yes! That worked!
He cupped his hand between her thighs, applying just the right amount of pressure. She inhaled a tight breath as he rocked his palm against her tight bundle of nerves.
Was she in over her head?
The man was built like a Greek god, and he possessed dirty talk skills!
But there was no turning back now.
Libby closed her eyes, giving in to the sensations engulfing her body. “Your plan is in line with the curriculum. You can certainly try to test that approach,” she bit out, finding it harder and harder to form actual words.
He stilled, his eyes blazing with fierce determination. Here was the fighter, but instead of this quality turning her off, his drive turned her on. “I don’t try, plum,” he breathed. “I succeed. I win. I triumph. I’m a bloody champion.”
Wow!
There was a lot to unpack with that string of arrogant proclamations. But sweet karma pie, she wanted him to be right—no, she needed him to be right.
In reply to that verbal brag-fest, she rolled her hips, riding his hand as the man returned to peppering her jawline with kisses. Each point of contact sizzled beneath his heated breath. He dipped his index finger past her delicate folds and teased her entrance. All she could do was brace herself against the vibrating machine as his lips dusted kisses across her cheek. A lightness took over as if a weight were being lifted. She moaned, crying out, powerless to hold back the lusty sound—a motion her beefcake didn’t let go to waste. Raz took full advantage of her parted lips and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss.
Their first kiss.
But this was no ordinary first kiss.
Their tongues met in a sensual dance. And despite his searing intensity, the man was in no rush. He kissed her deeply, employing a tenderness she hadn’t expected. He explored her mouth as if he were silently recording every lick, every hum, and every point of contact. Luckily, this man was not only a good kisser. He was a multitasker. He never stopped working her with his hand. Strumming her most sensitive place, he slipped his other hand into her hair, twisting the locks around his fingers, then tugged.
He pulled hair like a master tugger!
The sweet bite of pain combined with the pressure building between her thighs had her panting. Her eyelids fluttered open. “I didn’t expect for you to be so attentive,” she got out between kisses.
“I told you, I’m the best.”
She couldn’t challenge that assertion.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, plum,” he added, his voice growing hoarse.
She stared into his penetrating gray eyes, gasping for breath, peering into the windows to his soul. There was anguish hidden behind the cocky layers of the fighter, but that wasn’t all she saw. The man carried an abundance of love in his spirit. Untapped or possibly overlooked, it was there, dormant beneath the mask.
He slipped another finger inside her wet heat, and she tightened around him.
“Bloody hell, plum, you could lift a piano with your core muscles.”
“Yoga…really…works,” she said between gasps, then raised her hand. “You should see what I can do with this.”
“I know. I watched you do that handstand, one-handed.”
“I think you’ll be equally impressed with this skill,” she answered, wrapping her hand around his hard length.
Raz inhaled a sharp breath. “You might be right,” he answered, then pressed his lips to hers.
They were relentless, both intent on bringing the other the maximum amount of pleasure. She worked him in long, fluid strokes, matching his pace as he massaged her sweet bud. Shades of blue and violet colored her gaze, cocooning them in a haze of sexual energy. This man’s touch reached her on a cellular level. Her once frustrated, blocked chakras joined the rhythmic dance as they drifted into alignment.