John licked his lips. Then lowered his head to cup my swollen centre with his mouth. Heat seeped through the fabric that was still covering methere. He bit, sucked and licked and I never hated clothing this much.
We should have been doing this all the time.
I dug one hand into his hair and pressed him further into me. He groaned and the vibrations of his voice set my nerves on fire.
John replaced his tongue with his thumb, pressing hard and bit the inside of my thigh.
I choked out a sob, arching from the table. Pushing his teeth deeper into my flesh. He rewarded me with more bites, then gentle licks over the small wounds. A wolf having a meal, then licking the bones clean. Pain ebbed into pleasure and I writhed under him, desperate for more.
Normally, I was all for a slow burn, drawn-out, teasing foreplay. But tonight? Super-horny-Nora didn’t even have the word patience in her vocabulary.
Judging by the strain on his face, the way the muscle in his jaw flicked, John and I were on the same page.
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know if I have condoms. Birth control?”
I shook my head. “I’m tested, and…”
I took his hand and guided it up to my scar. The one across my lower abdomen, where the window glass had once cut deep. “I can’t…” My voice faltered. I’d never said it out loud before.
But John’s expression stayed calm. Understanding. The fire behind his eyes still burning brightly.
He nodded, dark curls falling over his strong brow. He bent down and kissed my scar with so much tenderness it ached. Then he lifted one of my legs gently to the side and paused, waiting for permission.
I nodded.
When he nudged my entrance, there was the sweet sting of fullness. The heady promise of more. More pressure. More heat. More John.
Slowly, he pushed inside—stretching me, inch by inch. My head rolled back, eyes shut tight, then forced open again. I didn’t want to miss a single moment.
“Fuck.” I don’t know who said it first.
I gripped the edges of the coffee table.
With both my legs wrapped around his waist, John drew back—then rolled into me again. Deep. Deliberate. Controlled.
His knees were firm on the ground and he steadied us both as he built a slow, torturous rhythm, filling me completely. Every movement he stretched me more, wound me tighter. He lifted my legs over his shoulders, angling me just so, sliding deeper into me.
And my last clear thought was?—
This is the hottest moment of my life.
I felt him everywhere, yet I still pulled him down to me—needing more. Our mouths met again, deeper, hungrier, as his rhythm quickened. My chest scraped against the buttons of his shirt, and I tore at them, desperate for his skin on mine.
A hand slid beneath my back, lifting me off the table and fully onto him. The rough carpet scraped my bare knees, but all I could feel was the deep, breathtaking fullness as he moved inside me. John finally yanked off his shirt, then my bra followed. When our bare skin touched, we both let out shameless, primal sounds—at the heat, the feel of it.
His fingers dug into my hips, guiding my movement, anchoring me to him. I secretly hoped they’d leave finger-shaped bruises, so I could replay this moment by tracing them. I still couldn’t believe it was John Kater I tasted on my tongue. That it was his expensive cologne that lingered on my skin. I wanted to freeze this moment in time—this moment where he was entirely, undeniably mine.
“You’re so fucking soft,” he growled into my ear, his breath scorching. “You taste so fucking good.”
I buried my face in his hair, my lips brushing over his brow, his nose, every piece of him I could reach. When he hit the spot that made the world spin, I gasped—and he kissed the breathback into me. Each thrust was punctuated by a kiss. A band in me began to tighten. A release starting to built. So did the ache to stop time, wanting this to never end.
His arms locked around me tighter, and I felt my body clench, a singular focus overtaking everything else. I barely registered the burn on my knees as he gritted his teeth and drove deeper, over and over. Harder, faster with every punishing thrust. My shaking hands scrambled for hold in his hair.
Pinpricks of light danced at the edges of my vision as I came apart. Me coming undone made him lose the last restraints he’d kept on himself. It was a strange feeling seeing John Kater unravel beneath me…I wished I could get used to it.
Our mouths met again, this time slower, languid. No urgency, just heat and breath. His arms loosened, and his hands glided over my back in soft, lazy strokes. Where we’d been tight and ravenous before, now we were loose, heavy-limbed, slick with sweat, and drowning in gentle kisses.
I didn’t want the moment to end. Because I knew exactly what came next.
