Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 by Em Petrova Page B

sexual haze burned in her eyes.
    His heart muscle jerked. Seemed to stop.
    Would she allow him to command her in bed, as he desperately wanted to do?
    Her chest heaved with labored breaths, her nipples harder than ever. She slid a hand down her belly and let her arm dangle loosely at her side, exposing herself fully to him.
    Was she undone by that fucking slap or coming off her orgasm high? He couldn’t allow her to think about it too much—he’d be as tender as possible and make her see stars once more.
    And he wouldn’t let himself cross that line again. Never. If she was giving him another chance, he’d control his urges and provide the passion without the rough edge.
    With a growl, he clasped her hand and towed her toward the curving flight of metal and cedar-treaded stairs. Taking the steps slowly to allow for her shorter legs had never seemed so painstaking. He was more than ready to be inside her—because she was already firmly rooted in him.
     
    Hayley’s body was a live wire. Or a lightning rod, erected to conduct the energy Brant emitted. As she followed him up the stairs to his bedroom, her mind spun with emotions.
    She hadn’t had a “first time” with anyone in too long. What if her performance tanked? Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a cock in her mouth, let alone how to suck one. And after that stinging slap on her ass, she wondered just what she was getting into. He was definitely demanding, but his ways didn’t irritate or frighten her. In fact, she liked giving up some control. After raising Drake, caring for the house and finances, and working hard for years, it was a relief to not have to think in the bedroom. With Brant, he gave, gave, gave—let her feel.
    Gaze glued to his hard ass moving up the stairs before her, she ran her hand over her own bare cheek, where Brant’s touch still sizzled. God, the instant his palm had connected with her flesh, her pussy had squeezed juices down her inner thighs. They slipped together now as a reminder of that erotic touch.
    He glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes two burning orbs of passion. “Almost there.”
    The treads beneath her bare feet gave way to plush carpet. She barely registered the comfort of his house though. Her attention was riveted on the muscles rolling on his spine and the way his worn denim dipped oh so low.
    He’d kicked off his shoes in the living room and the sight of his bare feet did things to her insides she’d never guessed. Why two long, manly feet could enflame her pointed to her desperation. Apparently waiting for three years to get laid hadn’t been a good idea.
    At the top of the stairs, his grip on her changed, and she found herself whipped off her feet and into his arms. His skin kissed hers, sending new need directly to her sex. Even after that earth-shattering orgasm delivered by his talented mouth, she wanted more. She still felt his fingers probing her deeply.
    Again, his words wove through her brain. I promise you will feel me stretching you all day .
    Leaning forward, she placed her mouth over the spot on his neck that fluttered erratically with his pulse. His skin was salt and musk. When she opened her mouth wide over his neck, he rolled his head and groaned.
    “Jesus, woman, you make me want to lose control.” He quickened his pace. They reached a door and he kicked it inward, sending it crashing off the wall. She broke into uncontrollable giggles, snorting against his throat.
    He rumbled a laugh in response. “I’m going to turn that musical laugh of yours into a scream of release.” In two strides, he reached the bed, laying her out expertly and as if she weighed nothing.
    Before she could gather her wits, he stretched atop her, pinning her from head to foot. Part of her languished in the realization that his cock was jutting into her belly—and huge. A new and unfamiliar part of her wished he would put her on her hands and knees and give her another nerve-shattering