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aching nipple from his taut suck and transferred to her other breast, still holding her up like a feast for his mouth, pressing her to him. She had the impression that although he was unusually powerful, it was his desire that gave him the strength to hold her suspended that way.
    He was a man determined to get his fill.
    The thought fired her. She squirmed against him, aroused even more by the feeling of his cock through his clothing. It was like the rest of him, big and hard and frothing her senses. Her hunger mounting, she reached downward, finding his waistband. She ripped at his button fly savagely, wild to undress him. His low, guttural groan thrilled her. His lips slipped over her nipple, his tongue lingering in a caress. Then he was moving and setting her down gently on the couch.
    She stared up at him, panting. He watched her while he reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. Dazedly, she realized he was retrieving a condom.
    He finished what she’d started, drawing up the hem of his T-shirt over a taut, ridged belly and unfastening his jeans. He shoved them roughly around his thighs. Her breath froze. He wore a pair of boxer briefs beneath the jeans, the cloth looking starkly white against his olive-toned, hair-sprinkled, powerful thighs. Gia was no expert on men’s underwear, but Seth’s possessed a front panel that seemed to be made to accommodate his size. She could see the outlines of his cock through the clinging cotton. The staff was thick and long, heavy enough to fall forward several inches and tent the fabric. The crown was fat, the cap clearly defined even through the boxer briefs.
    She stared, enthralled.
    Even as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of the underwear, she reached forward and caressed the tempting, swollen head through the fabric. His cock jumped at her touch. She encircled the head and gave a small, erotic tug on the base of the crown.
    She looked up into his face and smiled.
    A muscle jumped in his rigid cheek. He jerked the cotton down over his erection to his thighs. He straightened before her, his gaze on her, scorching.
    “Go on,” he said quietly, but she needed no encouragement. Her hand already encircled him. A thrill shot through her. He was warm and hard and pulsing. She squeezed him tight experimentally. He grunted softly as she pistoned her fist up and down the stalk for a moment. She felt his avid gaze on her from above. It mounted her excitement. Fascinated by the sensation of him—the sheer weight and texture—she wrapped her other hand around the fleshy crown, using her fingers to trace the succulent rim. One swollen vein ran the length of his cock, amply feeding his arousal, and she followed that with a fingertip as well. He groaned, low and rough. She began to pump the staff while she continued to make a study of the head with her fingertips. She leaned forward on the couch, spellbound. Her lips parted.
    He hissed. She blinked in surprise because he was suddenly moving, sitting on the couch next to her.
    He lifted her onto his thighs. With a hand on the back of her head, he immediately pushed her down to his mouth. She moaned feverishly as their tongues rubbed and dueled and tangled. He tasted so good. His kiss drugged her. He was so hot, sending up her fever of excitement.
    He opened his hand along the side of her head and jaw and sealed their kiss.
    “I have to have you now,” he declared gruffly.
    “I have to have you too,” she squeaked, glancing down at his lap. His heavy erection had fallen against his belly and T-shirt.
    “Hold it up for me,” he instructed her quietly, hastily tearing open the condom package. She reached for the base of the staff. He shaved. The edge of her hand pressed against round, firm testicles, the skin over them tautly drawn. She found the sensation exciting. She found
everything
about him exciting. When he’d unrolled the clear condom most of the way down, she moved her hand. She couldn’t resist running her