Playing to Win

breastsbared, and her panties now gone. Anticipation made her swell with heat and arousal, especially when he pulled her dress down over her hips and it dropped to the floor.
    “I want to see you.”
    When he pressed a kiss to her hip bone, her already weakened legs wobbled a little more.
    “Damn, you’re beautiful, Peaches.” He leaned in and slipped his tongue along the folds of her pussy, before tilting his head back to meet her gaze. “And you taste as good as you look. Tell me to make you come.”
    That one lick made her quiver. She wanted so much more. Without hesitation, she said, “Make me come, Cole.”
    He raised up, grabbed her ass, and put his mouth on her. His tongue was warm and wet across her clit, flooding her with heat and sensation and a trembling, aching need for more. His fingers dug into the cheeks of her ass, and she was overcome with the sheer pleasure of his touch and his mouth on her.
    Mercy, but the man had a talented mouth. And the things he could do with his tongue should be outlawed. Or at least forbidden from use on any other woman but her for the rest of his natural life, because she was going to take him home with her, lock him in her bedroom, and never let him go.
    He had a way of using his tongue that defied logic. He rolled it over her, slid it inside her, and dragged it slowly over her sex, swamping her with sensation until she arched against him and came with a wild, unexpected cry. Through her unabashed climax he held tight to her, never once relinquishing his hold on her.
    Panting, she pressed her palms against the wall for support, but she didn’t need to worry because Cole stood, slid an arm around her, then planted his mouth on hers. She wound an arm around his neck and kissed him back, trying not to appear as desperate as she felt. Normally, she played it cool and unruffled, but he had definitelyruffled every part of her. She was hot and perspiring and shaking all over. Her normal calm had been replaced by a frenzied need to get him naked so she could run her hands and mouth all over his fine body. And then she wanted—no, needed—him inside her.
    It couldn’t happen soon enough for her liking.
    He lifted her and carried her the rest of the way down the hall. She held back on rejoicing, but she was closer to getting exactly what she wanted. They fell onto the bed and she rolled him over onto his back. She undid the clasp of her bra and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor.
    “I like where this is going,” he said, reaching for her breasts.
    She pushed his hands away. “No.”
    He frowned, but then she slid her hands under his shirt, and his lids shuttered halfway down. There was something very dark when he looked at her like that…something elemental and wicked that made her want to climb on his very erect cock and do very nasty things with him.
    She licked her lips and spread her fingers, exploring his firm, muscled abs as she raised his shirt up. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his bare stomach, snaking her tongue out to follow the trail of soft hair that led to his belt buckle.
    He hissed and grabbed a handful of her hair. Mercy, but she liked the feel of his power. She undid his belt buckle and drew the zipper down, feeling the hard ridge of his erection pressing against the seam. Anxious to release him, but also knowing how much he wanted this, she lifted, meeting his gaze as she rubbed against his cock with the heel of her hand.
    He gave her a warning glance. “Savannah.”
    She rubbed again, feeling the length and thickness of him. She shuddered out a sigh and cupped him through his boxer briefs. “This is very nice.”
    He glared at her, lifting against her hand. She bent and pressed a kiss to the open vee of his jeans, inhaling the musky scent of him. So very male, so potent and arousing.
    She rose and reached for his pants. He helped her by shrugging them down his hips. The unveiling was like watching a work of art. Tan skin, then white, a few scars here and there, but the mars only highlighted his beauty.
    His nose was a little crooked, and he had a scar across his chin. Another scar ran the length of his forearm and there was a jagged one on his thigh, too. Perfection was overrated. She much preferred a man who wasn’t so perfect that she’d feel inadequate. After all, she was hardly a fashion model. She was full bodied, and he was all muscle, yet lean, and oh so thick in one place. He made her mouth water.
    He raised up so she could