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Mitchell gave me a devilish grin. “After what, Winona?” He shouldered off the wall and closed the distance between us, taking his free hand and gripping my hip. He pulled me toward him, his lips down at my ear. “After I fuck you?” he supplied.
The surge in my stomach was like fire, the heat incinerating everything.
But I couldn’t just let him win without a fight, could I? “Who says we’re going to fuck?” I asked.
Mitchell raised an eyebrow, then he walked me back to the wall. He stuck his knee between my legs, nudging them open.
“I do,” he whispered. Then he leaned in and kissed me. I’d forgotten, in the few hours since we’d been apart, how my whole body went hot at the touch of his lips. How with his searching tongue, I felt like I was melting, no matter where else he was touching me.
“You’re a cocky bastard,” I managed, when I broke the kiss.
He didn’t disagree. Just felt his hand go to my throat as he kissed me again, this time harder, more insistent. I heard the glass in his other hand clink carelessly against the wall.
He slid his hand down, undoing one snap on my coveralls, then another. Then he sucked in a breath and backed up.
I had him now.
He popped the rest of the snaps in one quick pull of my collar.
As he took in my bare breasts, he let out a low growl.
Wetness slicked my thighs. It was instinctual. The man made animal noises, my body responded whether I wanted it to or not.
I’d taken my undershirt shirt off in the van, right out there in the driveway. I couldn’t believe I was doing it then. But now, I knew it was because of this. This was exactly how I’d wanted him to react.
“You’re a dirty girl, firecracker,” he said. Then he bent down and took one of my nipples in his mouth.
“Oh Mitch, fuck,” I said as he swirled his tongue around my tight rosebud of a nipple, then sucked hard and fast until it popped out of his mouth.
“I changed my mind about the whiskey,” I breathed. I tried to reach for it, but he was too fast. He slipped his hand up behind my head, threading his fingers in my hair. Then he tugged so my head tipped back, my mouth open. He poured the whiskey into my mouth in a slow dribble.
“That’s right,” he said. “Take it. Swallow. Show me what you can do.”
The whiskey burned as it rolled down my throat, spreading warmth through my neck and shoulders. The next time he poured, some of it dripped onto my chin. Mitchell was there to catch it, with one long stroke of his tongue. Then he plunged it into my mouth, sending fire licking through me.
He set the glass down on the ledge next to the door without breaking contact, and I don’t know if it was having both hands on me or his tongue darting in and out of my mouth, suddenly everything became more urgent. My clit pulsed, and I knew if he touched it, I’d go too fast.
“Winona,” he rasped when he pulled his lips from mine, suddenly serious. “I’m not sure I can ever get enough of you.” He grasped my face in his hands.
Me either, I wanted to whisper, but it scared the shit out of me. So instead I said. “Then don’t wait. Do it now.”
He brushed his thumb over my lip. “This is just the beginning, Winona.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant the sex or something different, and my heart pulsed with something deeper than the hormonal surge rocketing through me.
But then he sank his teeth onto my ear, his breath hot when he said, “Turn around.”
It was a courtesy to say the words, because he didn’t wait for me to do it on my own. He grasped my hips and turned me so I was facing the wall. Then he pulled my coveralls down to my thighs. “So fucking beautiful,” he said, palming my ass. He pulled me against him, and I felt the soft brush of the terrycloth against my skin.
Need coursed through me, blinding me, and I reached back, wanting desperately to rid him of it. But he took my arms, pressing them over my head against the wall.
“Now,” I said, my voice desperate. My need was so intense, the throbbing of my pussy so rhythmic in anticipation, I almost came just by him pinning me there.
But he was going to touch me. He had to. “I need you inside of me.”
Mitchell kneed my legs open. I was restricted by my coveralls, now pooled around my calves, but by tilting my hips just right, he had perfect access to my slick entrance. I heard the soft sound of the towel hitting the ground and sucked in a breath.
“So fucking beautiful Winona. So fucking”—he drove his cock into me mid -sentence, making me shudder as his whole length slid inside; thick, hard, perfect—“beautiful.”
