Not just yet.
So, I kiss her again.
And she meets the thrusts of my tongue without hesitation.
Fuck, I could taste her like this for an eternity—could feel her moans on my tongue, her hands on my back, the softness of her body beneath mine as I press her into the couch and rock my hips against hers.
“L-Leo,” she whispers, as I release her lips and kiss my way down her neck, nipping at the smooth curve of her throat, inhaling the sweet scent of her.
“Let me,” I say softly as I stroke my hand over her still-flat belly and find the hem of her tee, start dragging it up to reveal the silky skin of her abdomen. She shivers, body melting beneath my touch. “Let me make you feel good.”
A shudder wracking her frame, her legs falling open around mine, cradling my pelvis.
“Fuck,” I groan, grinding against her.
Nothing has ever felt better than Harper.
“Leo,” she moans. “I?—”
“Please?” I beg.
Yup. Beg.
Her eyes come to mine, and it’s impossible to miss the indecision. I want to press further, to keep begging, but I force myself to wait.
And maybe I pray.
And maybe rock ever so slightly.
She gasps, her head falling back, exposing that gorgeous throat of hers.
I can’t resist bending down and sucking at her skin, leaving a faint pink mark that she might curse me for later. But it’s not my fault she tastes delicious…or that she threads her fingers into my hair and holds me against her, those sexy hips of hers rocking beneath mine.
Fuck, I want her naked.
“Okay,” she whispers.
For a heartbeat, I think I said that out loud.
Then I realize she’s answering my earlier question—which is almost just as good.
Desire arrows straight for my dick, making it go somehow even harder as I tug at her shirt, drawing it up and over her head.
“Fuck,” I growl.
“What?” she asks, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Your body, baby. Fuck, it makes me crazy.”
“I—” Her eyes go wide then drift from mine, sliding down her body. “I mean, it’s just a body.”
Is she insane?
“It’s not just a body,” I growl, reaching behind her and undoing the clasp on her bra, freeing those tits of hers that have haunted my dreams for months now. They’re rounder, plumper, and when I drag my thumb over her nipple she hisses out a breath. “Sensitive?” I ask.
She nods jerkily, pressing herself into my palm. “Yeah, ever since…you know.”
“I know,” I murmur, bending and pressing my lips to her collarbone, the top of her breasts. “But even though they’re sensitive, these things are magnificent.”
