World Enough and Time Read Online Free Page A

a disappointment when the clothes came off. Connor was not one of them, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
    He didn’t seem to mind my staring. In fact, he was much too busy watching his fingers trail across my skin to even notice. They followed my collarbone to the lapel of my blouse, then down to the first button. With a flick of his thumb and forefinger, the button was open. His eyes met mine and that barely-there grin made my temperature jump.
    He unfastened each button in turn, but made no effort to push my shirt out of the way. I was tempted to wriggle out of it, to expose as much skin as I could for him to put his hands and mouth on, but what he was doing seemed so deliberate. Calculated. He knew what he was doing, even if I didn’t, so I let him.
    It was only after he’d opened every last button that he hooked a single finger under the lapel and drew it down, deepening the “V” of my blouse one inch at a time. His fingertip caught on my bra for a fleeting second, just brushing my breast before continuing downward. That touch, however brief, was electric, and I closed my eyes when a shudder went through me.
    A flutter of warm breath above my bra was my only warning before soft lips pressed against my skin. It was a light, gentle kiss, but my back arched and pushed me closer to him, letting his five o’clock shadow scuff against my skin and raise goose bumps all over me. Another huff of breath, this time with the force of a quiet laugh, made me shiver.
    I looked down at him and met his eyes in the same moment he kissed between my breasts once more. Pushing himself up on his arms, he came up and kissed my mouth. When his hips touched mine, when his belt buckle chilled my skin and I realized that we were both still mostly dressed, my toes curled. He had to know how powerful his touch was, how just the lightest contact flared my every nerve ending to hyperawareness. He had to know that all he had to do was say the word and we could call foreplay complete and skip right to what we were here for.
    But he didn’t.
    I’d never known a man to savor every gentle touch and long, deep kiss the way he did. It was some ungodly hour in the morning, we were both horny, and still he took his time. This was the kind of sex I’d fantasized about, and we hadn’t even taken off our clothes yet.
    His hand went to my side and started around to my back, which obediently arched. Still kissing me, he sat up, the hand on my back urging me to follow him, and we rose together.
    I whimpered into his kiss when he pushed my blouse over my shoulders, fingertips following it until it fell away completely. Once it was gone, he wrapped his arms around me and ran his hands up and down my back, my sides, my arms, exploring every inch of exposed skin the way his mouth explored my own.
    When he went for the clasp of my bra, my nipples ached and tingled. I didn’t know what I wanted him to touch them with first—his skilled fingers or his sensual, attentive mouth—but I knew I wanted him to touch them. Soon. Now.
    He tried to unsnap the clasp, but failed. Tried again. And again.
    “Damn it,” he muttered.
    “Need a hand?”
    He laughed. “You don’t mind?”
    “Not at all.” Willing my fingers to cooperate, I reached back and unsnapped it, shrugging just enough to let the straps fall over my shoulders. He slid them the rest of the way down my arms, then cupped my breast. The tip of his thumb made a slow circle around my nipple, turning my insides to liquid. I put my arms around him and pulled him closer, but even casually using him for support was useless when the heat of his skin melted my spine.
    He must have known how precariously aroused I was, because with one hand still on my back, he guided me back down to the bed.
    No longer needing to hold onto him to keep myself from collapsing, my hands were free to roam his gorgeous body and feel him. Feel him everywhere. With only the lightest touch of my fingertips, I traced every curve