Shaking, it’s my turn to bite his lip. He drags his cock against me viciously, more punishment than tease.
And I’ll take it because I know I’ve been so bad.
“You’re making it hard to walk, Clee.”
“Your knee again?” I tease.
“Bullshit. You know why.” He slides a hand under my shirt and places his palm against my stomach. My every muscle tenses, and I suck in a harsh breath as his fingers slide toward the waistband of my jeans. “How fucking wet are you?”
My heart lurches.
Oh, everything would be so much easier if I didn’t have any feelings besides lust. Right now, I’ve got enough of that for both of us, but he makes me feel soshy.
From the heavy weight of his cock, I think he’s suffering just like I am.
I arch up toward his exploring fingers, opening my legs, offering up everything.
His eyes beam dark promises as he lifts me back up and fights us both down the hall.
A few more steps and I’m writhing in his arms, my lips frantic against his skin.
No one his age should have washboard abs, but they give me a wonderful surface.
The ridges.
The hardness.
The primal temptation, calling to my lips.
With a ragged breath, he swats my ass, guiding me as I grind against him.
I hope he understands. I need the friction, the release, and holy shit it’s beenso longsince any man touched me like this.
Only my entire life.
No art boy could ever compare to these rough, hot hands.
I’m kissing his neck again, licking his skin, sucking and teasing and etching everything quintessentially Holden Verity into my brain.
Salt. Spice. Cologne.
Always this scent that’s woodsy and earthy and unmistakable. Like he sneaks up to Acadia every week and forest bathes for hours.
And under it, that heady musk that makes him all man.
I’m still breathing him in when we enter a dark room and he flicks on the light, dropping me roughly on the bed.
The blinds are closed. I’m so ready to shed my jeans until he stops me.
“No. Let me.” He leans over, pressing a kiss to my lower belly, killing any protest.
Every freaking part of me is liquified.
“So bossy,” I tease.
“If I want it, yes, I am.” He pops the button and lifts me up, easing them off my legs. When he sees my panties, his eyes darken at the damp patch in the middle. “Fucking soaked. You have been since morning, haven’t you? Don’t lie to me, girl.”
I can’t. The cherry blossom flare in my cheeks gives me away.
