Perfect Fit by Naima Simone Read Free Book Online Page A

that resonated hours later. He would have given anything to shoulder her hurt and grief. Witnessing the proud, strong woman he’d come to know curl against him as if attempting to escape herself had stirred something in him—something that had lain dormant until that moment. Suddenly he yearned to protect, shelter…keep. He couldn’t turn back time and wipe out her pain. But he could make damn sure it didn’t touch her in the present or future.
    Being able to offer her the necklace had transformed him into Hercules. He’d wanted to beg Rowyn to give him something else he could do for her. Just to see happiness light up her dark eyes again.
    Damn, she was lovely, he thought, staring at her striking profile. All sleek lines and gorgeous curves. The modest hem of her dress bared long, toned legs. He’d had the pleasure of those slender brown limbs locked around his waist, over his shoulders. He wanted that again. Needed it again. His cock hardened in complete agreement.
    Lust tempered by a softer but no less intense emotion hummed through his body like an electrical current. Plans for dinner relegated to later , he approached her. In a replay of the night before, he paused behind her, close enough for the dark strands of her ponytail to tickle his chin. And he drew closer still, until her lower back cradled his straining dick and his chest pressed to her shoulder blades. Unlike last night, he didn’t allow a polite distance between them. Nothing but her dress and his pants separated his cock from riding the shallow dip below her spine. It still wasn’t enough, he realized, rubbing his cheek against the heavy silk of her hair. It wouldn’t be until her pussy surrounded his cock with its blistering heat.
    “Are you smelling my hair again?”
    He smiled at the softly spoken question, acknowledging the attempt at humor but detecting the quiver beneath. Trepidation or arousal? He clasped her waist, his thumbs meeting on the ridges of her spine. Yet he didn’t linger. His breathing deepened as desire punched a hole in his stomach, and he slid his hands up the sides of her slender torso, not stopping until he cupped the undersides of her generous breasts. Generous, beautiful breasts, he amended as he gave the mounds a light squeeze.
    Rowyn stiffened, gasped, and released the sweetest whimper he’d ever heard. It echoed the need that stiffened his cock, gripped his balls, and twisted his gut.
    “God, that’s sweet,” he murmured and flicked his thumbs across the hard nipples that poked against the thin fabric of her dress. His reward came in the form of another needy moan. She dropped her head back and rested it on his shoulder. Quick bursts of air parted her lips, and the thick black fan of lowered lashes hid her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her temple and, without words, declared how beautiful he found her. With his hands he worshipped her, molding her flesh, circling and then pinching the hard tips cresting her breasts.
    The pained cries in no way resembled the sobs from that afternoon. Rowyn arched and twisted under his touch, then encircled his wrists like cuffs with her fingers. But not to restrain him. To hold on.
    He nipped the curve of her ear. “Do you know how good you feel to me?” he rasped. “I could come just from squeezing these lovely breasts. Or your nipples.” Darius released a rough, broken chuckle that sounded tormented to his ears. “I’ve dreamed about sucking your nipples, sweetheart. How they feel on my tongue. Sometimes I’ve woken up savoring the imprint of them,” he growled and rolled the stiff peaks, tugged them until she shuddered against him. The restless shifting of her thighs, the sensual roll of her hips—they all telegraphed her heightened lust. So fucking responsive. He gritted his teeth as her ass stroked over his dick.
    “Fuck this,” he snapped and abandoned her breasts. Ignoring her whispered protest, he shifted backward and attacked his belt. In seconds he had the slim