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Fuck, it’s been too long. Her frame lands against mine with heavy intent, just like we’re in sync. This is where she belongs. Where I belong. Where we belong together.
She backs against the wall, and I drag my hand over her shoulder and wrap around her throat. Her eyes meet mine.
That sigh. It’s there again.
Fuck!
My cock is hard, threatening the zipper on my jeans.
One hand on the wall, I lean in and lift her chin with my thumb. Her bottom lip quivers and I angle in slowly, giving her a chance to push me away or tell me I’ve read the signals all wrong.
She doesn’t. She tips up onto her toes and meets me in the middle. The kiss is soft and sweet, slow and meaningful, but then her tongue slips past my lips and the sweetness is gone.
Herbal tea and vanilla. It becomes its own flavor when melded with her scent of wildflowers and honey. How does a woman stay so perfect for so many years? It pains me to think of all that I’ve missed. The smiles, the heartache, the beauty in her day to day. I’ve thought about that a lot over the years. I wondered if he complained when she reached for him, or if he loved her like she should be loved. I wondered if she felt beautiful with him, or if she needed me to remind her. I wondered if she was satisfied with him, or he left her wanting more.
I kiss her harder to make up for the yearning, but it’s not enough. I need more.
My hands move over her frame, onto her shoulder, over her breasts. I’m not polite, soft, or careful. There’s a neediness built up from years of waiting that’s uncontrollable.
“Did you come here hoping I’d touch you, little one?”
She sighs again. “I’ve wanted you to touch me again since the day you let go.”
I can’t help but smile. “You’ve been thinking of me?”
“Only every other day.” She swallows hard and rubs her hand against my hard cock. “I couldn’t figure it out. I didn’t know if you felt the same way. I mean, you’re older, and I’m… and when you called me little one, I figured you thought of me as—”
“Did you like that?”
“I do. I think about it all the time. The way your voice sounded when you said it. The way you looked at me.” She pants. “I love it. I missed it. It made me feel… taken care of. Like I was yours.” A tear falls down her cheek and I thumb it away.
I’m overwhelmed. There’s so much I need right now. I need to hold her, I need to kiss her, I need to hear every detail of her life for the last eighteen years. That said, something more animalistic takes over as I lean into her ear and growl, “Take off that pretty dress, little one. We have catching up to do.”
Chapter Five
Aspen
I drag in a deep breath as Sergei’s rough beard brushes over my bare skin. His big, demanding hands are on my shoulders, my chest, my hips. He moves with hunger and purpose.
His hands are strong and sure, moving with need.
In eighteen years, Steve never touched me like this. Hell, he never looked at me like this. Never once did that man conjure up a genuine growl or stare at me like a fever had taken over his body. At times, he pretended by copying a movie or a book he’d seen me reading. I guess that’s effort, but it wasn’t like this. This is genuine. I feel it. Sergei needs me and I feel his intention.
I feel his body wanting to rush, but he slows himself down. I feel him taking in every inch of my skin. His lips land on my shoulders, my neck, my chest. He isn’t there for me. He’s there for himself, and it shows.
With each breath, he groans as though he’s memorizing the lines on my skin, my scent, my curves, savoring each second that his hands are on mine.
I close my eyes and sigh as his rough beard scrubs over my stomach. I’ve always been insecure about my stomach. My ex would avoid it. Sergei worships it. He kisses my soft belly and squeezes it with a growl.
“Fuck, little one. I’ve missed this body.”
It’s alarming for a second to be bare and touched in the places that hold so much insecurity. But the longer he admires me, the more I relax.
Moving up from my stomach, he sucks each nipple hard before clamping down with his teeth and scraping them off.
I jump against his huge frame and lean against the cold wall again.
“My little girl likes that,” he growls, palming over my pussy.
