CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE

With hurried movements that betrayed his urgency, he unhooked the front clasp of her bra and pushed the open cups out of his way. Then he ran his tongue over her nipple with a slow, tasting rasp, before shifting to the other, pressing the swollen tip to the roof of his mouth, rubbing at her with his tongue while a rough, animal sound vibrated in his chest. His right hand found her hip…and moved lower, pressing possessively between her thighs, cupping her sex. “God, Alyssia. You’re so hot I can feel you through your jeans,” he growled, and then he was ripping at the buttons, his big, warm hand slipping beneath the top of her panties, pressing low, until he was touching tender flesh, so sensitive she couldn’t hold back the sharp cry that surged up from her lungs. “You’re swollen…wet,” he said in a guttural, nearly soundless voice, while his fingertips stroked, learning her by touch, before working one thick finger into the clenching tightness of her body. Alyssia stiffened, sensations r