I think he liked what he saw.
“Well.” His hands glided lower, lifting one of my legs up around his side. “Now we’re asking the real questions.” His right hand slid under my thigh, his fingers under my skirt grazing dangerously close to the place I was already wet for him.
My one knee holding me up was wobbly, my balance completely at risk, like I’d stepped onto loose marbles. Sam was of average height. I’d be surprised if he was much more than six feet. But his hands felt massive as he steadied me. Capable as he lowered my leg and then slid up my thigh, making my skirt lift. “You’re so fucking soft, Ellie.”
His other hand joined him in this trip up the sides of my bare hips, his thumbs circling the very edges of my pelvis.
I could hardly breathe.
“I can’t stop touching you,” he husked.
For the first time since he’d stepped into this room, his words sounded less like teasing me. More like he’d said them to himself.
Good, I thought.Don’t ever stop.
For a moment, we were both silent, the only sound in the room our breathing as his hands journeyed up my sides, my skirt dropping back into place.
I tipped my head back as he reached my ribs, giving in to the exploration of his fingers and thumbs. I melted into his touch, which felt more and more now like an expedition; like he wanted to tattoo little flags all over me, sayingmine, mine, mine.
When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, his pupils wide. He held my gaze as his thumbs brushed the underside of my breasts. Higher still, just barely grazing under my nipples.
The sound I made as I felt them tighten without even having been touched should have been humiliating.
But a hum of appreciation sounded deep in his throat. A reactive sound.
“You feel so fucking good, Ellie.” His voice was heavy now, the rough pluck of the thickest string on a bass. “And I haven’t even kissed you yet.”
I felt boneless. Liquid where there should be form.
“Then you better kiss me,” I breathed. I opened my mouth, shameless in my want now.
Sam’s eyes were serious as he followed the flick of my tongue across my lips.
His left hand rose to cup the back of my neck, his fingers sliding through the curls at the base of my skull. I kept my hair in abob that made my hair a little wild. I liked it, and maybe he did too, because he made another low sound as he gripped my strands between his fingers, tilting my head farther back. His other hand, which had splayed over my collarbone, rose up my throat to my jaw. He pressed his thumb onto my chin, parting my lips.
Still, he didn’t kiss me. It was like he was entranced.
But it was killing me. “Please,” I breathed, rocking my hips into him. I felt his hardness against my belly, and that did it. My patience was suddenly gone.
“Fine,” I said. I rose up on my toes, making his hand on my face drop to my throat. And without further preamble, I pressed my lips against his.
I’d expected the kiss to feel good. Kissing after some anticipation always felt good. But I didn’t expect this.
When his lips met mine I felt—genuinely and from experience—like I was being electrocuted. Only without the pain. There was that same paralyzation; that same feeling like my body had been taken over, a high-voltage hum filling all my senses as I melted against him.
For a moment, Sam was still. Surprised, maybe, at me having thrown myself at him.
But then he was on me, his mouth strong and firm as he took over. Our tongues met and another electrical jolt shot through me. I was desperate. Greedy. Pressing my body up against his. Grinding against the hardness between us like a wanton?—
“Christ, Ellie,” he breathed against my lips as he broke the kiss.
“Sorry,” I said.
Now it was his turn to grip my jaw. “Sorry? Fuck no.” His eyes on mine were like a drug. All the teasing from a moment ago was gone. His pupils had grown so wide his irises were the thinnest ringof blue flame.
“You’re so hot. I’m so fucking lucky. But we’re going to need to go slower or this’ll be over before it starts.”
I laughed, despite the heat coursing through me. “Okay.”
