Page 139 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“I think that’s sweet.”

“You’re in everything now,” I said. “Every memory. Every moment that matters. I can’t separate them anymore—the places from you. And I don’t want to.”

She moved closer. I couldn’t look away from her. The way the moonlight caught in her hair, how her skin seemed to glow against the darkness.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

I didn’t hesitate. My lips found hers, soft at first, then with growing urgency. She tasted like champagne and wedding cake and everything I never knew I wanted. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers working at my remaining shirt buttons.

“Here?” I asked against her mouth, though I wasn’t about to stop her.

“Here,” she confirmed, pushing my shirt off my shoulders. “Unless you’re scared, Bancroft.”

I laughed, the sound swallowed by another kiss. “Not scared. Just making sure you know what you’re getting into.”

“I know exactly what I’m getting into.” She rose to her knees and, in one fluid motion, straddled my lap.

The weight of her was intoxicating. Her dress had ridden up her thighs, and my hands found bare skin. I couldn’t get enough of her. Every inch of her body pressed against mine felt like coming home.

She rocked against me, deliberate and teasing. I groaned into her neck, my hands sliding higher up her thighs, finding the edge of her underwear.

“Cleo.” I breathed her name like a prayer.

“I love how you say my name,” she whispered, her fingers threading through my hair. “You make me feel like I’m special. Like I mean something.”

“You do mean something.” I pulled back to look at her. “You are special. I’m sorry if I haven’t done better showing you that.”

She smiled the smile that had been undoing me since the moment I met her, then reached back to unzip her dress. The fabric slipped down, revealing her breasts in the moonlight.

I lost my mind a little. I buried my face between those pillowy globes. My hands were everywhere. Her back, her waist, cupping her breasts as I kissed every inch of exposed skin. Her head fell back, giving me access to her throat, that pulse point that drove me wild. I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth.

“You’re overdressed,” she murmured, tugging at my belt.

“So are you.”

We became frantic then, desperate to remove anything between us. Her dress pooled at her waist. My pants were undone, pushed down just enough. The night air was cool against my skin, but she was fire against me, burning away any chill.

“Do you have anything?”

“Yes.” I grinned and grabbed my jacket. I always carried protection but it was just a habit. When I spent time around her, it became clear it was a necessity.

“Good boy,” she teased.

She took it from me and tore it open with her teeth in a move so sexy I nearly exploded right there. Then her hands were on me, rolling it down my length, her touch making me groan.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I said, watching her face in the moonlight.

“But what a way to go,” she replied with a wicked grin.

She rose up on her knees, positioning herself above me. Our eyes locked as she sank down slowly, taking me inside her inch by agonizing inch. The sensation was overwhelming. Tight, hot, perfect.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my hands gripping her hips.

“That’s the idea,” she breathed, and then she started to move.

I was lost. Completely, utterly lost in her. She took it slowly. Rolling her hips like she was riding a wave. Sliding back and then forward ever so slowly. The sounds she made and the way her body felt against mine was sending me to the moon. I’d had sex outside once in the throes of my wild teenage years, but I’d been a pretty buttoned-up guy since. I didn’t want to risk a scandal.

But now with her sitting on my lap and fucking me to the point my eyes were rolling back in my head, I didn’t give a shit who was scandalized. I buried my face in her breasts again and inhaled deeply. Suffocation was a real possibility, but I would die a very happy man.