He scooted her off his lap and settled down on the floor
in front of her, his hands sliding
up Lauren's calves, to her knees that she'd primly pressed
together. The heady scent of her
perfume, her home, her very feminine presence, seeped into
his senses.
She stared down at him, a soft 'doe in headlights' look on
her face. "Royce?" His name was a
soft plea on her lips, filled with uncertainty. He'd
confused her, sent her mixed messages,
in his effort to do what was right.
He felt like a wolf, a hungry wolf who wanted to devour
this woman, and there was no way that
didn't show in his eyes, no way the energy, the need he
felt for her, didn't radiate off of
him.
"You're beautiful," he said, softly, calmly, when the rage
of hormones inside him was
anything but. He kissed her knees, one and then the other,
reaffirming his decision to let
her pleasure be his tonight. "And I'm going to show you
how much I mean that."
She swallowed hard, her delicate, kissable throat bobbing
with the action. "I'm not sure I
know what that means."
He brushed her dress up her thighs. "You will," he
promised and kissed her delicate little
knee again.
She laughed - a nervously feminine sound. "I'm not sure I
know what that means either."
"You don't need to know what it means," he said, his
fingers tracing the lace of her thigh
high pantyhose, the sexy lingerie choice confirming what
he'd always suspected. Lauren might
be prim and proper on the outside, but there was a sensual
woman beneath the exterior who
wanted to come out and play - and he wanted to be the man
who she played with. He wanted to
be that man tonight, but no matter how tempting that might
be, tonight wasn't the night. But
he'd be damned if he'd allow her to doubt his desire for
her, his absolute, complete
attraction to her. "You just need to know how it feels."
His hands slipped inside her thighs,
easing her legs apart, his lips trailing a path up one of
them.
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