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“How long?” she asked, running her hands over his shoulders. “How long do I have you for?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three weeks,” she echoed. It was longer than she’d let herself hope for, but she knew how time worked, how it moved, how three weeks could feel more like three days.
Sinking to his knees, he gazed up at her through his long lashes. “But right now, we only have an hour.”
She pulled her sweatshirt over her head and hurled it behind her where it landed…somewhere. Glancing down, relief raced through her. It wasn’t her best bra, but at least it wasn’t neon yellow.
But when he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and said, “Take that off too,” the bra could have been covered in bright purple starfish and she wouldn’t have cared as it flew through the air to join her sweatshirt somewhere in the void. And like his existence here in her room hung in the balance, like if she looked away for a single moment, he’d vanish, she watched him intently as he slid her leggings down her thighs.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she told him, brushing his hair off his forehead with her fingertips while he knelt in front of her in faded jeans and nothing else, about to strip her naked, about to take off her—“Oh, fuck,” she gasped when he skipped a step, pressing his open mouth over her through the thin cotton of her underwear. His mouth was hot, his tongue wet, his finger sneaking under elastic, sliding through her, then inside her with slippery ease.
She grasped his head, holding him close while fighting to stay upright on trembling legs. He was good, so good,toogood while a second finger joined the first, his tongue dragging over her clit, soaking her underwear, blurring her vision. Sliding his fingers back out, he used them to pull her underwear to the side. “Hmm,” he murmured appreciatively. “It’s even prettier in person.”
“Cole,” she gasped when he licked her without the fabric barrier between them, when he sucked her, grazed his teeth over her just like he’d said he would yesterday, like she’d fantasized about him doing this morning. She was so close, already hovering on the edge of release, pain and pleasure building, swirling. “You have to stop.”
“I do?” He looked up, his mouth still hovering over her wet, sensitive skin as she watched his tongue slide over her one last time with excruciating slowness.
“I usually only come once,” she said, pushing his head away before pushing her underwear down her legs and kicking them off. “I want you inside me when I do. I want you to feel it.”
Rising to his feet, he said, “That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” and they laughed. Until she reached for the button of his jeans again, releasing it and his zipper enough to slide her hand inside. Then he wasn’t laughing anymore.
He was hard as steel under her fingers, his crown round and slippery and perfect. She tried to push his jeans down with her other hand, but he said, “Wait a sec.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a shiny foil square and twirled it in his fingers.
“You had a condom in your back pocket?”
The left side of his mouth quirked, his left shoulder rising and falling at the same time. “Hope springs eternal.”
Grabbing his face, she kissed him fiercely, then said, “Come on, Cole. We both know I’m a sure thing.”
Thank god putting a condom on was like riding a bike, because it had been a minute. But after dropping to her knees, she rolled it over him like a pro. When she gazed back up at him, desire, lust, need, all of it threatened to ruin her life, because his head was thrown back, his throat long, abs tight, his hands fisting in her hair while she cupped him gently. Then she stood, spun him toward her bed, and pushed him down until he sat on the edge. Climbing up with him, she straddled him, needing him with such raw intensity it shuddered through her bones.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand sliding up her side. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m okay.” Arching her back when he cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her peaked nipple, she didn’t say it, she tried not to even think it, but the thought came anyway:I’m just happy.
With her eyes locked on his, her heart caged mid-beat, she reached between them, held him steady, and sank slowly onto him, savoring every hard inch, cherishing the warmth of his body, the grip of his hands on her hips, the rumble of his low groan as he filled her. When she finally took him in fully, coming to rest in his lap, they shared a breath, shuddering and deep.
Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, “This feels good,” his lips brushing over her ear, his hand sliding up her back to cradle her neck. “It feels right.”
Remembering those words he’d said to her while they’d danced at Jimmy’s, she let her smile hover above his skin before dropping her lips to his shoulder. She could have stayed that way forever, holding him while his hands roamed over her back, her thighs, while he told her how good she felt, that he’d dreamt of having her this way, being inside her like this. But they didn’t have forever. They didn’t even have an hour anymore.
The realization must have hit him too, because as his mouth slid along her neck, his hands slid over her ass, grasping, holding her steady while his hips rolled. Then he kissed her, his tongue teasing hers while he swallowed her needy noises.
The sex was unhurried, languid, slow as dripping honey, the kind of sex that felt amazing, even though it rarely got her there. But there was something about the way his hands moved to her hips, the way his fingers held her down while he thrust up into her, his perfect, unchanging rhythm while he kissed her lips, her neck, scraping his teeth over her shoulder, that brought her to the edge again so quickly she had to tell him, “I’m close.” When he leaned back to cup her breast, guiding her nipple toward his mouth, she warned, “Cole, I’m really close.”
“Do you want me to slow down?” he asked while he thrust into her again. “Or do you want to come now?”
The question, the way his tongue swirled around her nipple after he’d asked it, the way he covered her tight peak with his mouth and sucked, didn’t help her situation one bit. “I’m…not sure I have a choice.”
“Mira?” he asked, a little demanding while his teeth grazed the swell of her breast.
“Now,” she said. “Now, please.”
His hand slipped between their bodies, his thumb finding her clit, pressing down, and she stifled her moan into the soft heat of his shoulder. But it wasn’t until his thumb started moving, finding its own rhythm, circling faster and faster, that her vision went hazy, pleasure pulling tight in her belly, pooling between her legs, sparking up the length of her spine until all she saw was light.
He didn’t say a word, only held her tighter, his thumb slowing while she collapsed against him, her body slack and pulsing from the intensity of her climax. Caressing her back in soothing strokes, he let her savor every moment of ecstasy without chasing his own.
