Her eyes grew round. "What?"
He looked at her steadily, letting his eyes convey his desire, willing her to see his need. "Undress me." When she hesitated, he toed off his Reeboks and pulled off his socks. "I started. You finish."
Reaching out tentative hands, she pulled his Polo shirt from his shorts. He helped her pull it over his head, then she dropped it on the floor.
"Touch me, Melanie," he said in a low voice. "Put your hands on me. Feel how much I want you. Don't be afraid."
Chris felt her momentary hesitancy, but she slid her hands up his chest, tunneling her fingers through the hair, lightly grazing his nipples. A long, low, heartfelt moan of pleasure flowed from him.
"Do you like that?" she asked, smoothing her hands over him again.
"God, yes. Don't stop."
Never taking his eyes off her, he easily sensed the surge of feminine power sweeping through her, encouraging her, making her bold. Every time he moaned, her confidence clearly grew. He could almost hear her thinking, Maybe I'm not so bad at this after all.
She continued her explorations, running her hands over his chest and back, and Chris found it more and more difficult to stand still. It seemed everywhere she touched, his flesh burned. When she leaned down and kissed his chest, he swore softly, and when her tongue flicked over his nipple he growled low in his throat.
Forcing his hands to remain at his sides, he gritted his teeth in an agony of pleasure when she unzipped his fly. Dipping her hands beneath his waistband, she lowered his shorts and boxers down his hips in one smooth motion. He kicked them off and stood before her, completely naked and painfully aroused.
He watched her gaze wander over him. Desire flared in her eyes, and her cheeks flushed crimson. She stretched out her hand and gently brushed her fingertips over the tip of his arousal.
He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.
She continued to explore, touching him tentatively, then more boldly. It took all his willpower to remain still, but when she wrapped her fingers around him and gently squeezed his erection, he knew he couldn't take any more.
He reached out and grasped her wrist. "No more," he managed to say, "or this will be over before it's begun."
Before she could reply, he took over, plunging his fingers into her hair. Her head dropped limply back on her neck, and he took immediate advantage. His lips skimmed hot kisses along her jaw while his fingers worked the buttons on her cotton blouse free. When the last button was unfastened, he slowly pushed the material open.
His breath caught. She was incredible, her full breasts encased in a skimpy bit of cream-colored lace. Watching her all the while, he removed her shirt and bra, dropping both to the floor.
"You're beautiful, Melanie," he murmured, trailing his fingertips over the swell of her breasts. A breath shuddered from her, and her nipples hardened into tight peaks at his feathery touch. Bending his head, he brushed his tongue over one distended peak, then the other.
She gasped, and Chris reveled in the breathy sound. With infinite care, he caressed her breasts with his mouth, kneading her shoulders and back with his hands. Slowly he worked her shorts and panties down until she stood bare before him.
His gaze slowly skimmed over her from head to foot. She was truly a vision. A blushing, long-limbed, beautiful vision. It required all his strength not to fall on his knees before her.
He held out his hand and she slipped hers into it without hesitation. Entwining their fingers, he led her the few steps to his bed, praying he'd somehow find the strength to go slow with her.
Melanie laid back on the navy and maroon comforter, thankful to be off her feet before her knees gave out. Chris followed her down, lying on his side next to her. She looked into his eyes and her heart nearly stopped at the intensity of his gaze. Unmistakable desire and need burned in the dark blue depths.
No one, not Todd, no one had ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most desirable, beautiful woman in the world. Like he would die if he didn't have her.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers one by one. His firm lips, his warm breath caressed her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He'd barely touched her, yet her heart pounded as if she'd just run a marathon.
When he lowered his mouth to hers, Melanie sighed his name and arched against him. While their lips and tongues played lazily, she reveled in the long-forgotten feeling of a man's hands on her, and the unfamiliar, mind-blowing sensation of him arousing every inch of her. It had been so long since a man had touched her, and Todd's idea of foreplay had been thirty seconds of petting.
Not so with Christopher Bishop.
He lavished attention on her, starting with her lips and working his way slowly down her body, touching her everywhere, his knowledgeable fingers and mouth making her crazy.
"This," he whispered, gently touching the beauty mark next to her navel with his lips, "is exquisite."
Melanie fisted her hands on the comforter when he dipped his head lower, his warm breath and clever fingers toying with the curls between her thighs. When his mouth closed over her heated flesh, she threw her head back and cried out, her insides coiling tighter than a spring.
Slipping his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted her, his lips and tongue caressing her to wildness. Unable to control herself, Melanie moved against him, moaning, mindless.
Intense orgasmic waves crashed into her for an endless moment, throbbing through her, touching every pore in her body. When the spasms finally subsided, she shuddered, breathless, boneless, and utterly fulfilled.
Lost in a dreamy haze, she felt his weight shift and heard the unmistakable sound of a condom packet tearing. Several seconds later, he settled himself between her thighs. A blissful sigh escaped her lips.
"Open your eyes, Melanie."
She struggled to lift her heavy lids. It felt as if someone had glued cement bags to her lashes. When she finally succeeded, she saw the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen staring down at her, tenderness and desire glowing in their heated depths.
Without taking his eyes off her, he slipped inside her with one long, heartfelt stroke. He remained perfectly still for several heartbeats, his weight braced on his forearms, his hands tangled in her hair.
And then he began to move, slowly at first, then more powerfully, watching her face, his expression intense. Melanie arched against him, running her hands over his back, down to his buttocks, urging him deeper. The force built inside her again, growing, growing, until she felt as if she were dynamite and he'd lit the match to detonate her.
When the explosion came, she moaned his name, falling over the edge into a previously unknown sensual oblivion that for an endless moment erased everything from her mind but the liquid throbbing of her body and the man inside her.
She was still quivering when Chris groaned and plunged into her one last time, pulsing inside her, his face buried in her hair. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on tight, listening to him whisper her name over and over like a prayer.
A good five minutes passed before Chris finally gathered the strength to lift his head. When he did, he found himself looking down into languid, dreamy, chocolate eyes. A spurt of masculine satisfaction washed over him as he noted her tangled hair and the satisfied smile lurking around the corners of her kiss-swollen lips.
Mine, a deep, primitive inner-man voice claimed. This woman is mine. He half expected to feel panic at the thought, but only deep contentment washed through him.
And I am hers, continued his inner voice. Chris braced himself for bachelor panic, but none came. Again, only warmth and happiness flowed through him at the thought. I am hers, she is mine.