Sleeping With the Enemy

Sequel: Chapter Eleven

Anthony

Game on.

Gemma stood in my kitchen with that seductive, needy look in her eye, practically begging me—scratch that, literally begging me— to cross the line with her. It wasn't even fair how gorgeous she looked in my t-shirt, and it was taking every ounce of dignity I had to hold myself back. The hem grazed her pressed thighs, and it hung loosely off of her shoulder, baring her suntanned arms. The persuading smile she wore held a dangerous dare, one I wasn't sure I was strong enough to deny. What man in his right mind could?

I wanted her so damn bad it was actually painful. Pain in my head. Pain in my chest. Pain in dick as it stood to attention. I may be able to convince my mind I didn't want her, but my body was a different story. My traitorous body was fully on board with fucking Gemma.

"Please." She parted her lips, slipping her tongue across them scandalously.

Fuck it. A growl escaped me as I stepped toward her, and for a moment, she faltered, wondering what kind of beast she'd awakened.

Oh sweet thing, you have no idea.

Sliding my arm beneath her, I scooped Gemma up and set her on the counter in front of me. My hands fell to her knees, pushing them apart as a red-hot blush masked her cheeks. Running my fingers up her thighs, I pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and shivered. She gave a gentle moan and dug her nails into my back, holding me against her like she was afraid I was going to stop again.

No, there would be no stopping now. I was so checked out that the consequences didn't even matter anymore. All I could think about was how fucking good it was going to feel to have my hands on that sinful body. She was about to get exactly what she'd been begging for.

And so. Much. More.

I was in no rush. This moment had played in my mind so many times since meeting her that the possibilities were endless. I'd thought of nearly every way to touch her, to please her, to make her scream my name over and over again. I'd thought about her lips wrapped around me, my cock filling her up, and watching the look in her eye as she took me in.

The floodgates were finally open, but this wouldn't be the fast and furious bullshit you hear about. This was going to be slow. Deliberate. Purposeful. If she really wanted this, she was going to have to submit herself to my mercy. Patiently take every single touch I was willing to give her. Feel every sensation to the fullest extent. By the time I was done with her, Gemma Avenetti wouldn't know which way was up.

Gemma's head tilted back, her arms draped around my neck as I pushed her knees farther apart. I shot her a taunting smirk before falling to my knees in front of her and nipping at her inner thigh. I bit the lacy fabric of her panties and slowly dragged them down. Gemma gasped as I held her hips in place, refusing to let her squirm while the stubble on my chin scraped across her skin. It drove her wild, and she tried to buck against me, but I held her still, my hands gripping her hips.

She pressed her lips together, suppressing a moan. "Anthony..."

I worked them all the way down to her ankle and tore them off of her, tossing them to the kitchen floor. I stood up, giving her a moment to catch her breath as I stepped out of my own shorts, standing in front of her in only my boxer briefs. Gemma's eyes fell to my bulge, and the red in her cheeks deepened. She was already hot and bothered and I hadn't even kissed her yet.

Crashing my lips into hers, I groaned and slipped my fingers through her dark curls to the back of her head. The sweet taste of her lingered on my lips, and sent a fiery shock wave through my body. I had lightning in my veins, stars in my eyes, and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my arms. Why the hell had I deprived myself of this for so long?