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things with his kiss.
    He was tender, taking his time, enthralling her with a kiss unlike anything she could remember experiencing. Her sex life was about driving lust and hard passion—not this slow, exquisite seduction of her senses. The men she was used to taking to her bed gave her fast, intense fucks and quick orgasms—Mike didn’t seem to be in any hurry to touch her breasts or insinuate himself between her legs.
    But she was pulsing everywhere. Her nipples were tight and hot and aching and her pussy quivered in anticipation.
    And still, he kissed her, notching her arousal to a fevered frenzy. She clutched his arms and dug her nails in, licking at his tongue as he lazily continued mapping her body with caresses.
    She finally couldn’t stand it and tore her mouth away. She leaned back and searched his face, confused by this languorous journey he was taking her on.
    “Mike.”
    “Yes.”
    “What are you doing?”
    Now that she was arched backward in his arms, he swept his palm up her belly and ribs, letting his hand come to rest under her breast. Her heart pounded against his fingers. “I’m touching you. Do you know how good your body feels against my hand?”
    “Uh, no.” But she knew how damn good it felt to be touched by him. So why was she about to complain? Because he wasn’t throwing her down and shoving his cock inside her? What was wrong with her?
    “Relax, Grace. We have all night.”
    She sucked in a breath. Relax. Right. She should do that. Stop thinking about past experiences and enjoy the journey.
    But somewhere along the way she’d lost control of the situation. Mike had taken the reins and he was in charge now. Not that she was uncomfortable. Well, she was uncomfortable. Profoundly uncomfortable. But in an aroused, delicious, swept-away kind of way.
    She gasped when he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. That she hadn’t expected. He made her feel fragile, womanly—cared for. As if she would break if he manhandled her too roughly. He carried her to the bed and deposited her in the center.
    Now they were getting somewhere. Now they were getting to the disrobing, and inserting of peg A into slot B. The fun part. The part where she got to feel that huge cock of his in her pussy. The part where she came. And he came.
    Except Mike wasn’t taking his clothes off. He didn’t remove his shirt and jeans, just kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, lying down on his side next to her. He palmed her neck and leaned over her, then started kissing her again, the same kind of oh-my-God intense, slow, incredibly soft kisses that made her insides turn to melted butter. The kind of kisses that made her think about jumping on top of him, unzipping his pants and impaling herself on his cock, then rubbing her clit against his hard flesh until she screamed.
    She whimpered against his lips and started a half turn so she could grab him and inch closer, but he planted his hand on her belly and kept her pinned on her back.
    “Stay there. I want to undress you.”
    Used to being more of a participant in sex, she plucked at his fingers. Mike laughed and held his hand firmly on her stomach. “Grace. Let me.”
    His deep voice was a command, not a request. She stopped struggling, giving herself up to the sensation of his hand gliding along her hip. He bunched the material of her skirt in his hand and pulled, raising her dress. Cool air breezed across her skin. She shivered at the dark look in his eyes as her flesh was revealed—first her thighs, then the panties covering her sex.
    Once again he surprised her. He looked hungry, his jaw clenched tight like an animal ready to pounce. She thought he’d touch her pussy. He didn’t. Just raised her dress and stared at her body, then looked at her face and kissed her again, taking her to that blissful place that was both agony and ecstasy. She felt his hand at her chest, undoing the buttons of her blouse. Slow, unbearably slow, he unbuttoned her,