She was damp and hot and aching for him and her legs moved apart instinctively. Her head burrowed lower, looking for a taut male nipple, one hand sliding over his lean hips searching for something else.

Matt's hand tangled in her hair and urged her head up. "Not so fast, sweetheart" he said. He laughed softly, his face inches from hers. "I want to make this good for you, to make it last." 

With passion-dazed eyes she looked into his face, the smouldering black eyes, the dishevelled hair that she was responsible for, and the wickedly sinful mouth smiling down. It was the smile that goaded her even as her...