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rotated his narrow hips against her core and heat pooled at the center of her body. A low moan escaped her lips.
    “Tell me to stop,” he said again. She shook her head mutely.
    At the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that this was her chance to get him off guard, make her move. Escape. And she would. Soon.
    First, she needed to know what his skin felt like, what he tasted of.
    She looked up into his sensual face as he pressed into her, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through her body. She pushed back against him, rubbing her hips against his shaft, trying to get some relief from the pressure building inside her.
    His eyes closed as he groaned.
    The realization that she could bring him pleasure heated her skin. She didn’t want to lay here, quiescent. She wanted to be the one in control.
    She moved suddenly, shoving him onto his back and rolling on top of him in one fluid move. His eyes shot open. For a moment, she though he meant to fight her, then he relaxed back and watched her through narrowed eyes.
    Anya straddled his lean hips then lowered herself onto him, a knee on either side. She looked into his face.
    “Let me touch you?” she said.
    Heat flushed his sharp cheekbones. He nodded.
    Her hand reached out and splayed across the hard wall of his chest. His skin was smooth and hot, and she ran her fingers over the swell of muscle, laid her palm flat against him, and felt the thud of his heart.
    A sense of urgency filled her, to feel his skin against hers.
    She pulled the T-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her bra followed. He watched her through half closed eyes as she leaned over and rubbed her bare nipples across his chest. They tightened into hard little buds, so sensitive that each brush across his chest sent ripples of pleasure shooting through her. Still she needed more. She raised herself up, so her nipples grazed his face. His lips parted, and he licked a long slow swipe across her breast, before drawing one taut peak into the warmth of his mouth, suckling her.
    A pulse throbbed between her thighs; her sex felt swollen and wet, as her insides turned molten and threatened to slide from her body.
    She pulled back before she lost all control, sat on her heels and looked down at him. The hard line of his erection pressed against the material of his jeans, and she traced it with one finger.
    He groaned as she opened the button and lowered the zipper, so he sprang free, thick and full. The skin was taut like satin, pale and silky, the head rosy and flushed with blood. It pulsed and twitched under her gaze with a life of its own.
    She shifted down the bed, so she could reach him with her mouth. Leaning close to him, she paused and flicked a quick glance up the long line of his body, to his face. The skin was stretched tight across his cheekbones and his dark eyes gleamed from behind his thick lashes. As she stared, he shifted beneath her, and she pressed a palm to his chest and pushed him down.
    She blew gently over his swollen shaft then kissed him lightly on the tip. Her tongue flicked out. He tasted salty, and she rolled her tongue around the rim, reveling in the warm musky scent that filled her nostrils.
    She was drowning in the taste of him. She needed to feel him lose control. Drawing the engorged tip into her mouth, she sucked gently and heard the indrawn hiss of his breath. His hips rose beneath her, thrusting more of him into her mouth until he filled her. She sucked harder loving the tension that filled his body, the knowledge that she held him on the edge.
    Her hands moved down to cup his balls. She squeezed, and he exploded. He gripped the back of her head, holding her against him while his hips jerked, spilling his seed into her, and she swallowed convulsively.
    Finally, his body lay still, and his tight grip loosened. His warm hand smoothed down over her neck as a lazy, rueful smile curved his mouth.
    “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said.
    She licked her lips.