I crawled toward him. Arched my back the way I knew he loved, let my hair fall forward over one shoulder. His gaze tracked every movement-the sway of my breasts, the curve of my spine, the flex of my thighs.

"You move like sin itself," he said roughly, sinking onto the couch.

I settled between his spread legs, looking up at him through my lashes. His hand came down, fingers threading gently and reverently through my hair.

"Beautiful girl," he murmured. "My beautiful, perfect girl."

I nuzzled ...