He didn’t.
His hands began to roam freely, his lips still fixed to my skin. His palms traced a line from my hair, skirting over my face, down to my shoulders, where they pushed the material of my shirt to the side, exposing my collar bone and the top curves of my br**sts.
"You taste so good, Sunshine... I knew you would… but, God…"
His hands resumed their journey down to my chest, skimming teasingly down my side, stopping when they reached my hips. He growled aggressively and jerked them forward to rest against his pelvis before his hands drifted backwards, grasping my backside, his wet kisses burning a trail across my exposed throat.
I squirmed underneath his strong hold and heard a high pitched moan – loud, passion-filled and more than a bit X-rated. On realising it had come from me, I came to my senses, braced my hands on his chest and pushed him back.
We are going too fast. Sheesh, calm down Tash, you are NOT the Geordie version of Linda Lovelace!
“Tudor, wait… wait!” My body cried out in protest.
He stilled, his head resting in between the crook of my neck and shoulder, the unexpected pause causing him to exhale a low, frustrated grunt. My hands gripped his arms to steady my off-set balance, and we remained that way for several seconds, trying to catch our breath.
He lifted his head and pressed his forehead against mine, hands once again firmly on my face and his lips pressing light butterfly caresses against my swollen mouth.
My hands, in the meantime, of their own accord, were drawing circles on his enormous biceps. “Tudor, what’s happening?” I murmured against his busy mouth.
He lingered on a kiss and reared back an inch so he could peer into my eyes. “I want you, Sunshine… God… please… don’t ask me stop now…” he closed his eyes tightly.
“I thought you wanted to be just friends?” I managed to say, gliding my hands up to run over his closely-shaved hair, causing him to roll his eyes and expel a guttural groan.
He opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, Tash, we have never been just friends. Can never be just friends. I know you feel the same way. I’ve wanted you for so long, fought it with everything I had… I had to protect you… but, I can’t fight it anymore, can’t be without you for one more day. Please, just make me yours. I need you, Tash, so much.”
He crushed his lips down possessively on mine, and I melted against his mouth, letting our tongues find each other. He stopped and breathed harshly through his nose, his hands gliding down my back. “Say yes. Let me have you.”
I couldn’t fight it anymore either. I’d wanted this man, this… situation for too long. Forget the Carpe Diem attitude, I just wanted him, all of him, in any way possible. I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded, giving him the permission he so desperately sought.
With that, he didn’t waste any time. His hands dropped to my behind, hitching me up off the floor to sit astride his hips. He carried me straight to the bedroom, his hands slipping under the legs of my shorts, my teeth nibbling his ear and jaw, causing him to growl.
This feeling was all very new and impossibly sexy. I had never had anyone tell me they needed me, wanted me, and I had certainly never had anyone carry me to my bedroom before. At that moment, I was friggin’ Debra Winger in An Officer and a Gentleman – love lift me up where I belong!
Tudor lowered me on to the bed, pulled me to the centre and crawled on top of me, diving back into a kiss, gripping chunks of my hair in his fists. Without stopping for breath, he began moving south, his tongue and gaze running down my exposed throat, over my concealed chest and stomach, causing me to jerk and tremble. He lifted himself off the bed, running his palms along my outer thighs and calves until he was standing, staring down at my laid-out body.
Without slipping from my gaze, he began to lick his lips seductively. His breathing was laboured and rough, his nostrils flared and shivers visibly racked his body. He quickly shucked off his boots, and I watched, captivated, as his hands grasped the hem of his shirt and brought it up and over his head. He was totally silent, and it was the sexist thing I’d seen in my life.
For an unknown reason, I could feel the urge to shout ‘Whoomp, there it is!’ bubbling up inside me, but thankfully, I assessed that it may have killed the mood somewhat if I did.
I was officially now in the most erotically-charged moment of my life. It’s funny, I used to think those steamy sex scenes in my mother’s Mills and Boon novels she hid under the stairs were full of shit, but phrases such as ‘throbbing member’ , ‘ramming home hard’ and ‘thick pulsating length’ kind of sprang to my mind when faced with this fine specimen of a man. Hell, screw it, this could be a one-shot kind of deal, so I resolved to throw caution to the wind and go with the wanton wench vibe that this situation called for!
I re-focused and saw that the T-shirt was now off. Tudor’s bronzed, bulging chest and sculpted stomach were almost fully covered in dark tattoos that wrapped around the full length of his left arm, climbing up onto his huge corded traps and his thick, muscular neck.
Jesus, he was perfect.
I shook my head once to gather my composure, biting my lip and clenching the bed sheets in my fists. He pulled a knowing Tudor-smirk, and I whimpered loudly, needing him to hurry.
He reached for his belt and began undoing the buckle slowly, eventually letting the leather strap fall to the floor with a thud. His fingers dusted over the top button of his jeans, snapping it open and dragging down the zip, causing the waistline to drop low on his hips, showcasing the defined V-line of his lower torso and exposing the thin patch of hair leading south of the waistband of his jeans.
"Tash, you need stop looking at me that way or I'm gonna lose it. I'm barely holding it together as it is," he announced through gritted teeth.
I pinched myself on the arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. As I was twisting the skin on my upper arm, I peeked up to see Tudor frozen in place with a confused look on his face. I rubbed at the red mark, trying to soothe the sting.
“Ms. Munro, are you into the kinky stuff?”
“What? No! I was just making sure all of this was real.”
He smiled tenderly. “And what’s the verdict?”
“Yep, we’re definitely here. Now, carry on, man-slave, and strip!”
He raised his hands high to rub over his face and head, causing his biceps to flex with the movement. “Are you ever serious? I’m pulling out all my best moves here.”