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Instead of answering, I drop my bag inside the door and jump into his arms.
In a testament to his strength, Keith doesn’t even flinch when he catches me, his large hands easily cupping my ass and holding me high as I wrap my legs and arms around him, hanging on. He presses into me, taking my mouth in a heated kiss. I hear the door shut behind me and vaguely realize he must’ve kicked it shut because his hands are squeezing me, kneading my cheeks roughly.
He slams my back against the door, using it as leverage to get one hand free. He dips his free hand under my sweater, tracing my hip, up my side, and finally grabbing a handful of my breast. His thumb swipes across my lace-covered nipple, already hard for him, and I arch for more. “Fuck . . . Keith . . . fuck, I can’t—”
He pulls me to him and holds me against the door, leaning his head back to meet my eyes.
“Tell me no, Elise,” he grates out, control and choice battling in his eyes and his voice. “Tell me to put you down and stop this. Because if you don’t, I’m gonna fuck you. This is my point of no return. I fucking need you.”
The last part is nearly a whisper, and I’m not sure he meant to say it, but as much as he needs me, I need him more . . . need him to fuck me, make me come apart under his hands. His tongue. His cock.
I cup his face and try to insert some steel into my voice to show that I’m doing this of my own free will. “Put me down.”
I can feel the power it takes him to do it, how much he doesn’t want to, but he does, letting my pussy slide down every inch of his rock-hard abs and cock. His fists are on either side of my head, knuckles pressed to the door, his breathing so heavy I can feel it on my cheeks. “I need . . . an answer.”
That’s the sweet with the rough I want, that edge where he’s in control but just barely, hanging on by a thread.
Once my feet touch the floor, I push him back just a half-step, giving me enough space to grab the hem of my sweater, pulling it up and off before dropping it to the floor next to us.
I meet his eyes again, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of his tank top. “Didn’t want you to ruin my sweater. Keith, yes. I need you, too.”
I see the instant he recognizes what I said, his feral grin hot for a split second before he growls. “Fuck!”
Grabbing me and tossing me over his shoulder, he strides further into the house, an area I haven’t seen before, but now, it’s upside down and my attention is mostly caught by the way Keith’s back and ass are flexing under my weight as he moves.
I get a sense of a dark blue bedroom before he tosses me unceremoniously onto the bed, and I bounce. If I wasn’t so turned on, I’d be giggling and yelling, but right now, what I want is to be fucked as hard as Keith can give me.
“Pants. Off,” he orders, his voice iron-hard. I hear the undertone. He asked, I gave him control, and now . . . I’m his to do with as he wishes. My choices are over for now.
I’m already hurrying to do what he says, but as he rips his tank over his head, I freeze, taking in the picture in front of me.
His chest is broad, covered in tattoos that would take my tongue hours to trace, and I make a note to do just that. His stomach ripples with muscles, lines and ridges that all flow together before dipping down to a V on the lower half. The lines disappear into his sweats, which are tented with obvious evidence of his arousal.
Keith cups his cock through his pants, blocking my sight for a moment, and I look up, knowing my desire is all over my face. But it’s all over his face too, his blue eyes intense and focused on my still legging-covered pussy.
“Take them off,” he warns me, his jaw clenching. “Or I’m gonna rip them off and tie you up with them. I need to see your pussy, taste you, feel you come on my tongue. Last warning.”
I wiggle, trying to slip the leggings off gracefully, but I’m distracted by Keith’s hand rubbing up and down his cock through his pants.
When I finally get my leggings down to my knees, Keith gives in and grabs them, pulling them the rest of the way off before grabbing my knees. He spreads me wide, leaning in close enough that I feel the brush of his nose through the lace as he inhales my scent.
