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“I know, I’m sick with knowing it. I’m so sorry.” My voice is tight with the effort of keeping my hands at my side instead of pulling her into my arms.
“Stop talking. It’s making me nervous and I can’t breathe.”
“You can’t breathe?” I run concerned eyes over her. She’s flushed, but otherwise she looks fine. When my eyes wander lower, she crosses her arms over her breasts but not fast enough. Her hard nipples press against her blouse, and I know it’s not because she’s cold. I forgot how turned on she’d get when we argued. I’d pick fights because I knew it would end in hot sex. Of course, that was then.
This, is now. She’s not done with me. All my thoughts about not poaching are forgotten. She could be mine.
I shouldn’t salivate at the first real crack in her resistance. But I am.
I shouldn’t press against its weakest point and try to widen it. But I will.
Because that body, in all its iterations, is my kryptonite. And the woman it belongs to—she’s a magnet for whatever substance my otherwise errant soul is made of.
I cup her jaw and marvel at how delicate it feels despite how strong I know it is. She shuts her eyes and pulls her lips in, wrapping them around her teeth as if to protect them.
She doesn’t know I’d cut out my tongue before I knowingly hurt her again.
But, she will.
I slide my fingers into her hair, press my nose to the side of her face and cradle her head and she moans. “You can’t breathe? I’ve got breath to spare.”
She shakes her head, keeps her eyes shut. but lets her lips free from the grip of her teeth. They're bright pink, raw and begging to be kissed. I don’t know anything but that I need to kiss her, too. My fingers curl in her hair and make a fist.
“Let me ease it.” I tug, gently, and that’s all it takes for her face to lift to mine.
Her eyes are hot and turbulent with need and hope and challenge. I’m up to it.
“Fuck you,” she breathes. Her lips a hairsbreadth from mine, now.
My heartbeat throttles to a full-on sprint. “Just a taste. Let me.”
Trumpets of victory blare when her hand slides around my waist and gives me a barely perceptible nod of ascent. “Go slow.”
“I’ll try.?
?? And I do. Even though I’m desperately hungry and going slowly feels like lying. I press a kiss to her full lower lip, and savor the plump sweetness of it against my parched lips. “So soft,” I murmur and move to the corner of her mouth.
“Oh….” The word leaves her in a sigh of relief and she shifts her hips and lifts herself onto the desk. Her thighs are spread wide enough for me to fit into the apex of them, and I sink into the plush heat that yields to the urgent press of my need.
I lift my head to press another kiss to her lips and she cups my face to guide my mouth back to hers.
“No more slow. Fast,” she clips it out like a command right before our lips touch again.
I laugh and her mouth opens under mine, our tongues dart and dance, desperate for each other, and without any hope of being satisfied.
My memories muted the shades of perfect that our fragmented parts make together. I may not have known biographical details, but I’ve always known who she is and what we are.
If this this slice of time between now and the future is all the time we’ll ever have, then I want to give her what I should have been all these years. This slow, languid pace feels like telling a lie. We don’t have all the time we want and this isn’t nearly enough.
“Do you want me stop?” I breathe against her lips.
I finger the lace edge of her panties. And as soon as the "N," in her gasped "No" forms on her lips I tug until they tear away from her body.
And finally, I touch heaven. And it’s even more wonderful than I remember. She's hot, wet,and when I slip my fingers inside her, all of that soft lush flesh grips them tight. “That's it, baby. You feel so good,” I praise her. and stroke her deep
She whimpers and rocks her hips. I add another finger and pump my hand in and out. She drops her head onto my shoulder. “Carter, oh God,” she cries and the need in her voice makes my already hard erection achingly stiff “Take my dick out, I want inside you.” I command in a low gruff voice
"Yes. I need it. So bad." Her words are interspersed with gasps and whimpers that seal our fate. She reaches between us and deftly undoes my fly. She shoves my jeans down my hips and before I have a chance to brace myself, she wraps her small hand around my dick and gives it a long slow stroke that makes my balls tingle. I thrust into her hand and feel the tingle in my balls right away.
