Unleashed. Caitlin CrewsЧитать онлайн книгу.
is not intimate, but a question about hair color is?”
She scowled at him. He didn’t know why he found that...delightful.
“We’re supposed to be having sex,” she said, her voice ripe with impatience. “Not playing these ridiculous ‘get to know you’ games.”
“Oh, Professor,” he murmured. “I haven’t even begun to play games.”
Margot breathed harder the closer he came. He liked it. It told him more things about her than he imagined she knew she was giving away, and he liked that, too. He moved over until he stood next to the bed, facing her.
Still holding her gaze, Thor reached out and patted the mattress beside him.
She swallowed again, visibly, and he watched in fascination as she fought with herself. He could actually see the fight. It was as obvious to him as if she was taking swings at herself.
Her fists clenched and released. Once, then again.
Then she moved, jerkily, and climbed up to sit on the very spot that he’d patted with his hand.
He moved so he was standing at the side of the bed, then. He moved himself between her legs so she was forced to open them even wider. Thor leaned forward, planting his hands on either side of her as she fell back, catching herself on her elbows.
He wasn’t even touching her. But he could smell her arousal. He could see it in that telltale flush that moved down from her pretty face to cover the whole of her chest. Her breasts sloped slightly to the sides and the nipples were already pink and hard. Flushed, they seemed to gleam like heat.
She was breathing as if he was already inside her.
“Why is this a struggle for you?” he asked with deliberate politeness, as if he’d offered to call her a taxi.
“It’s not a struggle at all.”
“Liar.”
That flush of hers got brighter. Redder.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“That’s not good enough, Professor. Try again. Use that brain of yours.”
“I’ve never done this before.” She said it in a rush, as if it was a confession. “I’ve never—You’re a stranger.”
“You have researched me already. You know far more about me than if I was merely a stranger you met in a bar.”
“I don’t pick up strangers in bars.”
“You didn’t pick me up, either. It was quite the opposite, if you’ll recall.”
She stared at him a moment. Then that chin of hers tilted up again.
“Is this why you got me naked?” she demanded. “So we could talk?”
Thor laughed at that, and even that made his impatient cock ache. He shifted so he was leaning over her more, bearing her back against his bed.
“Remember,” he told her sternly. “You’re not allowed to kiss me no matter what happens. This is your rule.”
She frowned at that, as he had known she would. She was sucking in a breath, no doubt to share her indignation, when he dropped another inch and took one of those pink nipples in his mouth.
Finally.
And whatever she might have said was choked off. Then turned into a cute little sound of need that Thor liked.
A lot.
Margot moaned something, but he didn’t pay attention to it.
He paid attention to her gorgeous body instead. He lavished that first nipple with attention, testing the lush, perfect shape of the other with his hand.
Then he switched places, and as he did, he learned her responses, her taste. The way she writhed beneath him, shifting her legs and lifting her hips. She slid down off her elbows and arched her back, offering him more of her.
More access. More of those hot little noises.
More.
But it got even better when she lifted her hands and sank them into his hair, not to stop him or guide him, but as if she couldn’t help herself.
And after a while, Thor could feel the ache of his own need edging toward pain in his cock. But he didn’t hurry anything along. He explored her, reveling in his own delayed gratification.
Because his ornery American was giving herself to him, and he wanted to marinate in every single moment of it.
He moved from those velvety nipples down to her soft belly, where he amused himself with that belly ring of hers and her shuddery responses. He tested the span of her hips with his hands, and when he was tempted to bury his face between her legs and drink her down, he thought better of it.
For the moment.
He flipped her over onto her belly instead.
She made a low sound as he crawled up onto the bed and dropped down closer to her. He set his mouth behind her ear, then made his way to the nape of her neck.
He found that he could make her squirm.
And he did.
Thor followed a meandering path down the length of her spine, then made her shiver and buck a little when he found the sweet curve of her ass.
He let his thumbs graze that dark furrow and the sweeter heat beneath, but he didn’t go deep.
He didn’t know why he was restraining himself until she made a low, hot sound of protest. He grinned, then nipped at her nape, using his teeth lightly until she was shuddering all over again.
Only then did he turn her over yet again.
He ran his hands along her legs, enjoying the play of her quads and her calves. He found her ankles and then lifted her, draping her legs over his shoulders.
Margot was breathing fast then.
Heavy, hard.
And there was a wildness, a glorious heat, in her gaze that hadn’t been there before.
He held her ass in his hands again, levering her up off the bed so she was at an angle.
And it was impossible not to notice that she was exactly the right size, scaled to fit him perfectly. He could lift her. He could play with her. And soon enough, he would be so deep inside her it would feel like coming home.
Thor was actually shaking a little, he wanted to fuck her so badly.
“I want to lick you until you scream,” he told her, and his voice was gruff. He felt so greedy and insane with need. “It’s my preferred version of a handshake.”
“Oh my god.”
“I am named for a god, it is true. Are you calling out my name, Professor? Or is that a prayer for deliverance?”
She sucked in a breath that sounded like a moan and writhed in his grip. Her hair was spread out around her, a bright tangle on the bed.
“Why are you talking about it?” she demanded, her eyes too dark and too gold, and furious. Thor could relate. “Why don’t you just do it?”
“If you want me to do something, Margot,” he told her, clipped and dark, “you need to ask for it. By name.”
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