The Devil She Knows. Kira Sinclair

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СКАЧАТЬ merry widow was white and made of see-through mesh and lace. It was strapless; the cups and boning kept it in place. The edge skimmed right at the curve of her hips and a cutout in front showcased matching panties. Tiny iridescent beads edged the lace, and delicate garters stretched down her thighs.

      With deliberate steps Dev crossed the room. He stopped before her, but didn’t touch. At least, not with anything more than his gaze.

      “I didn’t think anything could top the dress. I was wrong. I almost wish you still had the wings.”

      Overwhelmed, Willow dropped her focus to the ground between them.

      “Don’t.” The single growling word startled her into looking back up.

      “Don’t what?”

      “Don’t go all virginal on me.”

      Something about the way he said the word virginal pissed her off. He was...annoyed.

      This time, she was the one to close the space between them. Grabbing the tie she’d already loosened, Willow pulled him tight against her half-naked body. The texture of his suit touching her skin only served to remind her that she was vulnerable while he was still completely covered up.

      He could have stopped her, but he didn’t. Instead, he let her pull him down, his back arching so they were face-to-face.

      “Don’t let the white fool you. I haven’t been a virgin since I was sixteen.”

      The dark wing of his eyebrows rose in surprise. “That young?”

      “Let’s just say it was a moment of weakness.”

      “Like me.”

      “Not like you. That was a regrettable bow to peer pressure and was hardly earth-shattering. This is a moment of insanity. And I have a feeling I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. For much better reasons.”

      “God, I hope so.”

      “God has nothing to do with it.”

      Without warning, Dev swept her up into his arms.

      She directed him to her bedroom, and he carried her up the stairs as if she was as light as one of the feathers that lay scattered in their wake. He didn’t bother to turn on lights when he reached her room. There was enough moonlight that he could see. Placing her softly on the bed, Dev took a step back.

      Willow leaned up on her elbows to watch.

      Without a care for his own clothes, he let the suit coat slide to the floor. She almost protested, but her mouth was too dry. Anticipation buzzed through her, an electrical shock of need. With dexterous fingers, he finished the job she’d started outside and pulled the tie free.

      Without breaking eye contact, he torturously unbuttoned his shirt. Her legs scissored restlessly on the bed, silk rasping against silk. She wanted him to be the one touching her. But she wanted to enjoy the show more.

      And she wasn’t disappointed. Billowing behind him, the shirt fluttered to the floor, his own set of broken wings.

      What to look at first? His chest was wide, shoulders tight with muscle. They tapered down in a V to his amazing abs. His biceps flexed. Jesus, the man was built. And not with the kind of muscles that came from working out in a gym.

      What the heck did he do? And why did she care? She could ask him later.

      Bouncing up onto her knees, Willow couldn’t keep her hands to herself anymore. Grasping the waistband of his pants, she tugged him to the edge of the bed. His hands tangled in her hair, sending the pins she’d used to pull it up scattering across the bed.

      Some of them pulled, but she didn’t care. Dev’s fingers sifted through the strands, combing until all the pins were gone and her hair hung in a waterfall down her back.

      He reached for his mask, but she stopped him. His hand stilled beneath hers, a question in his eyes.

      “Leave it.”

      She wanted the masks tonight. She wanted the anonymity they provided and the safety to be and do whatever she wanted without the niggling voice in the back of her head that said she would regret this. Yes, the cover was a ruse and they both knew it, but she needed it.

      Without it she wouldn’t have the strength to break her own rules.

      “All right. If you’ll leave these on,” he countered, running a finger down the inside of her thigh to the band of lace circling the top of her stocking.

      “Done.”

      His mouth crushed to hers. He was all sweltering sin. He tasted dark and dangerous. But she opened for him anyway, letting him in. His tongue stroked hers, coaxing and teasing. He sucked, pulling her into his own mouth.

      While she was distracted, he was busy disengaging each of the tiny hooks that ran up the length of her spine. The boning fell away. Willow let out a gasp of relief that he swallowed.

      Blood rushed to the surface of her skin. His hands scraped down her exposed body, taking advantage of the increased sensitivity. The muscles in her stomach leaped beneath his touch.

      But he wasn’t the only industrious one. Spreading the fly of his pants open, Willow went searching for what she wanted most. And she wasn’t disappointed. Hot and hard, the length of his sex pressed eagerly against her palm.

      Talented fingers tugged at her distended nipples. He rolled them, making her ache, and then his thumbs feathered lightly across the sensitive peaks. Willow clenched her thighs together, trying to find some relief, but there wasn’t any. At least, none without him.

      The need for him spiraled out of control. She shoved his pants to the floor and resented the time it took for him to step out of them because that meant he wasn’t touching her.

      She bit his shoulder and he sucked in a harsh breath. In retaliation, he grasped her around the thighs, brought them close together and then pushed her backward.

      The pull of gravity was exhilarating. Her entire world tipped off-center. And he was right there with her.

      Silk-clad thighs slid slowly up his ribs. Dev settled heavily against the V of her open legs. He felt so good there.

      His mouth found her breast and he sucked. The moist heat of him had her arching off the bed.

      The rip of fabric tore through the room. A cool gust of air touched her sex. She didn’t care. If it meant he’d touch her then he could ruin every last pair of panties she owned. Hell, she’d sew more.

      And then he found her. His fingers slipped through her sex, diving deep. She groaned with the bliss of his touch. He found her hidden spot and stroked. Over and over, until she was delirious with the need for more.

      Her hands played mindlessly across his body, the pleasure of touching him increasing her own. He was solid and real. Hers to enjoy. Her mouth rained down kisses on every inch of skin she could reach.

      Blindly, she fumbled in the bedside table for the box she kept there, not that she needed it often. Grabbing a condom, СКАЧАТЬ