Dylan continued to drive her wild with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth as he nibbled on her bottom lip before sucking on it. His hands traveled down the bumps of her spine, callused fingers snaking beneath the hem of her shirt.
She shivered as he began sliding the material up, those strong hands caressing her stomach, moving closer and closer to the undersides of her br**sts.
When his exploration came to an abrupt halt, she voiced her disapproval in the form of a groan.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a chuckle. “I have every intention of playing with these gorgeous tits, but first I want to enjoy the view. Up you go.”
In the blink of an eye, he was helping her to her feet.
“What are you doing?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Me? Well, I’m going to lie here like this—” he fell back on his elbows, looking mighty pleased with himself, “—and watch while you undress.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “You want me to do a striptease? Am I supposed to dance or something?”
“Naah, no dancing required. And you don’t even have to go slow. Rip those clothes off if you want.”
“Do it for me.” Her brazen order came out of nowhere, surprising them both.
“Nope. Like I said, I’m just gonna enjoy the view.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He licked his lips. “Come on, honey, show me some skin.”
Although the two of them had worked everything out, a part of her still felt slightly wary, wondering if he was playing a cruel joke on her. Like she would take off her clothes, let him see her naked, and then he’d jump up and say, “Gotcha! I still hate you!”
Dylan must have read her mind, because he let out a breath and stood. “How about this? I’ll go first.”
“What—”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence, because the next thing she knew, he yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then shoved his sweatpants down his legs.
Claire gaped at him, heart pounding even harder. Her gaze darted around like a pinball, unable to land on one particular spot. Every inch of him was pure perfection, from his smooth, tanned skin to his tight six-pack, from the muscular thighs dusted with golden hair to the unmistakable erection beneath his black boxer briefs.
Somehow she managed to find her voice. “The undies stay on, huh? I guess putting yourself on display isn’t as liberating as you thought, is it?”
“I’m keeping these on for your sake, not mine.” He smirked. “Because the second you see my cock, you’ll get all weak-kneed and distracted. Probably applaud for a couple of minutes, too—that’s a common response I get from the ladies.”
She burst out laughing. “Someone thinks highly of himself.”
“Oh, I think very highly of my dick, honey,” he said solemnly. “And with good reason. Fuck Helen of Troy—bigger wars have been fought over my cock.”
As Claire rolled her eyes, Dylan settled back on the bed and got comfortable. “Now, where were we? Oh, right, you were about to get naked.”
With Dylan lying there half-naked, she no longer felt as self-conscious, but her hands did tremble as she reached for the hem of her top. After a beat of uncertainty, she ordered herself to quit being a wuss and swiftly took off her shirt. Her shorts were next, which left her in a black bikini-style bra and matching panties.
She hesitated, fingers poised over the front clasp of her bra.
Dylan’s nostrils flared. “Lose the underwear, Claire. I want to see you naked.”
A shiver skated through her. Taking a breath, she flicked the clasp and let the bra fall to the floor. Then she wiggled out of her panties and stood in front him naked, just like he’d requested.
No man had ever looked at her the way Dylan was looking at her now. His gaze traveled over her body as if he owned it, leaving little pinpricks of desire in its wake. She felt exposed standing there, and yet at the same time, wanton and feminine and so very sexy.
Dylan didn’t say a word as he got his fill. He stayed quiet for so long she shifted her feet awkwardly. “Now what?” she murmured.
“Now you come closer.”
Her heart thudded as she did what he asked, but just before she reached the side of the bed, he shook his head and said, “Stay right there.”
She stayed put, wondering what he was planning to do. Anticipating it.
God, why wasn’t he touching her?
He chuckled when he saw the impatience in her eyes. He hopped off the bed and rose to his full height, the sheer size of him sending her pulse into another tailspin. He was so much taller than her, his big body dwarfing her petite one, making her feel both vulnerable and…safe. Because no matter how much bigger he was, no matter how much stronger, she knew this man wouldn’t hurt her.
When he lightly rested one hand on her hip, she shivered again. She tipped her head back, expecting him to pull her close and kiss her, but he didn’t do either of those things.
What he did was get on his knees and press his mouth directly on her pu**y.
“Oh God.” Nearly keeling over with pleasure, Claire’s hands once again grabbed hold of his shoulders so she could steady herself.
“Now, this isn’t fair,” he said in a raspy voice, peering up to look at her.
She blinked. “What isn’t?”
“You’re totally bare.” His finger traveled along the length of her slit. “How will I know if you’re a natural redhead?”