I held her there, the weight of her thighs was warm, the taste of her mouth both foreign and so frighteningly familiar that I wanted to howl.
She pressed into me. Her body not quite yielding, not quite resisting, as if she too was stunned by the violence of her own wanting.
I couldn’t stop, not even if the house caught fire, not even if Dante himself broke down the door to drag us apart.
After a few moments, the kiss turned to a deep slowness. She opened for me, and I met her there, matching the rhythm, letting her set the pace even as my hands mapped the tense slope of her ribs through the fabric of the borrowed sweatshirt.
Her hands slid down my neck, thumbs bracketing my jaw, and I had to close my eyes against it because if I didn’t, I’d say something stupid, something that would ruin the fragile, golden now of this moment.
I let my instincts take over, the old muscle memory of wanting but never having, and I kissed her until I was dizzy, until my lungs burned, until I forgot that I was supposed to be holding back.
Her breath shivered out of her, a soft moan caught against my tongue as she shifted on my lap, pressing against my groin, which was hardening with each second that drifted by.
I felt her shift again, cautiously, as if she was savoring the feeling of my hardness, like she was hungry for it, yet hesitant on crossing that line.
I couldn’t help but groan at the friction.
I let my hands slide up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones as I pulled back just enough to see her.
Flushed, lips swollen, eyes half-lidded. The bathroom's harsh light caught in her irises, turning them to liquid emerald.
Something primal and possessive roared through my blood as I took in her parted lips, the shallow rise and fall of her chest.
Without speaking, I reclaimed her mouth, harder this time, all restraint evaporating like morning mist.
She shifted in my lap again, more deliberate, and the friction against my hardness sent lightning coursing through my veins.
I groaned, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating between us as my hands gripped her hips, guiding her movement against me.
I ran my hands down her sides, thumbs grazing the undersides of her breasts through the fabric. She arched into my touch, silently asking for more.
I cupped her breast, feeling its weight in my palm, the hardened peak of her nipple pressing against my thumb.
Time dissolved, reality narrowed to this. Her weight in my lap, her taste on my tongue, the sweet torture of her body against mine.
When she rolled her hips again, I nearly lost what little control I had left. My hands slid down to cup her ass, pulling her more firmly against me, creating a pressure that was both relief and torment.
She broke the kiss, head falling back, exposing the elegant column of her throat.
I kissed her there, teeth grazing the delicate tendon, holding her open to my mouth. She shivered. Whether from pleasure or panic, it didn’t matter. She was letting me devour her. She wanted it, maybe needed it, as bad as I did.
I sucked at the hollow beneath her ear, catching the taste of her skin, and bit down just enough to leave a mark.
She ground into my lap and I felt the echo of it in the growing throb between my legs. It was too much, and not enough.
Too hungry, too naked, too fucking close to ruin.
I tried to pull her closer, but we were already made of the same heat. Her hands yanked my hair back and she kissed me again, deeper, like she was punishing me for every time I’d ever hurt her, every bruise and every wound.
She rocked against me and I thought I’d black out from the pulse in my cock and the taste of her still on my tongue. It was almost embarrassing, how fast she could reduce me to this. A needy, desperate thing, clawing for one more second of contact.
I wanted to see all of her, to taste every inch, to map her body with my hands and mouth until I knew her better than my own skin.
But even as desire coursed through me like wildfire, I knew we couldn’t. Not here, not now, not with everything still so fragile between us.
I pulled back, my breath heavy.
She pressed her forehead to mine and laughed. Shaky, nervous, like she couldn’t quite believe it.
