Her heart was hammering frantically against my chest. She drew in a sharp, ragged breath.
“I’m kind of fond of you too,” she teased in a low murmur.
I didn't give her the chance to say anything else. I trailed scorching, desperate kisses down the column of her throat, and the soft moan that escaped her lips lit a fire directly in my gut. The kisses turned deep and demanding. My hands squeezed her hips, my fingers spreading to cup the curves of her backside as she began to instinctively rock against me. Feeling the sudden, heavy length of my arousal hardening right beneath her center nearly drove me over the edge.
“I want you,” she gasped against my ear, her teeth gently catching my earlobe.
The low groan that ripped from my throat was completely, entirely uninhibited.
Before she could move again, I gripped her tightly and stood up, lifting her effortlessly against my chest.
“I am going to fuck you on every single surface in this house, Vanessa,” I growled, my voice rough with a decade of restraint, “but the very first time is going to be right on my bed.”
A beautiful flush of heat flooded her cheeks. She wrapped her legs tightly around my waist as I carried her down the hallway, our eyes locked in the most intense, unyielding stare-down we had ever shared.
When we reached the bedroom, I set her down on her feet, pressing every single inch of my heavy body against hers to pin her against the wall. She ran her hands up my arms, her palms savoring the feel of my taut muscles, and the needy look in her eyes told me she was about to combust.
She slid her hands beneath the hem of my T-shirt, taking her sweet time moving up my skin, until the slow torture became too much to bear. I reached back, gripped the fabric, and yanked the shirt over my head, tossing it onto the floor. Vanessa pouted as her hands temporarily lost contact, but I instantly grabbed her wrists and guided her palms flat against my bare chest, starving for her touch. I let out a ragged breath, my eyes closing as her fingers roamed hungrily over my abs, my pecs, and up to my shoulders.
When her fingers trailed lower, brushing the waistband of my jeans, I felt them start to shake.
I opened my eyes and covered her small hands with my own, anchoring them. “You’ve done this before,” I murmured, my voice low. It wasn't a question.
“Yes,” she admitted softly, her eyes searching mine. “With you, it just means so much more.”
The sheer honesty of her words shattered whatever self-control I had left. My answering kiss was rough, fast, and completely possessive. I lifted her again, carrying her the final few feet to the mattress, laying her down with the utmost care.
“I’ve imagined this a million times, Ness, but when you say things like that…” I excelled sharply, hovering over her frame. “You can’t say things like that to me.”
I slid my hands to the waistband of her leggings and began to peel them down slowly, following the fabric with my lips, kissing every inch of exposed skin. Her breath was coming in short, frantic gasps as I crawled back up the mattress, planting teasing, deliberate kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
The anticipation was pure, delicious torture. Vanessa clutched the sheets beneath her, her back arching off the mattress when I ran the tip of my nose over her center, still obscured by a thin scrap of wet lace. A low, breathless chuckle escaped me at her reaction.
“Trigger happy, Ness?”
“If all this has been foreplay, then yes. Obviously.”
I didn't answer. I leaned down, caught the edge of her underwear between my teeth, and pulled the fabric down her legs until she was completely bare to me. Her skin was buzzing with a frantic energy. I leaned over and pressed a long, tender kiss to the surgical scar on her leg—a silent promise to quiet the chaotic thoughts in her head—before I finally dove in.
I used my tongue and lips with rough, unyielding precision, licking and sucking until a high, shattered sob broke from her throat. The climax hit her fast and hard, the built-up tension of months igniting all at once as her body buckled against my mouth.
Before the tremors could even fade from her thighs, she reached down, gripped my shoulders, and pulled me up, unexpectedly rolling me onto my back beneath her.
“My turn,” she panted.
My heart hammered against my ribs as she reached for my jeans and briefs, tugging them down my legs until I was completely exposed to her. I watched her eyes track the heavy, hard length of me, and the naked hunger in her expression was hotter than anything I’d ever experienced.
She leaned forward, her hair brushing my thighs, and took as much of me into her mouth as she could manage. A sharp hiss escaped my teeth at the sudden, consuming heat of her throat. My hand found her hair, my fingers anchoring into the strands to guide her rhythm as my own low moans began to vibrate through the quiet room.
After a few minutes of agonizing pleasure, I couldn't take the restriction anymore. I gripped her by the arms and flipped her back onto the mattress, pinning her fully beneath me. I quickly stripped the remaining shirt and bra from her body, my eyes going wide as I drank in the sight of her completely bare. I sat up, leaning down to aggressively suck one tight nipple into my mouth while my hand massaged the other. She was moving frantically beneath me, her soft center pressing perfectly against my aching hardness.
We traded slow, agonizing friction for minutes until I caught the sound of a low, husky laugh bubbling in her throat. She quickly flipped us back over. I looked up, amused, but before I could even ask what she was laughing at, she shifted her hips, slid down, and took the entire length of me inside her in one long, devastatingly slow thrust.
I choked on a sudden gasp, my head snapping back against the pillows.
Vanessa rose and fell against me with a painfully slow, deliberate rhythm, completely dominating the pace. I reached up, my hands gripping her hips to force a faster motion, but she instantly caught my wrists, slamming them flat against the mattress above my head and pinning them there. She looked down at me, her eyes dark with a wicked challenge, completely refusing to give up control.
Two could play at that game, but I had a decade of pent-up demand fueling me.
