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Her gasp breaks the kiss and I trail my lips down the front of her throat, past the hollow and between her breasts. Lick my way left, suck the stiff bud between my lips, add a little teeth.
“Micah,” she breathes out. “Fuck.”
“You like that?” I ask and circle her nipple with my tongue.
“God, yes.”
I pay equal attention to her right nipple. Peyton claws at my scalp, tugs my hair, mewls as I lick my way down, down, down her abdomen. When I reach the hemline of her pants, I lift my gaze to meet hers and ask permission.
“Yes,” she says, breathy.
My lips drop back to her belly, kiss her sweet flesh, lick her navel. I unbutton her pants and tug down the zipper. I sit up, scoot back and drag the fabric down her thighs, her calves, then drop them on the floor. As badly as I want to rip her panties off, I leave them in place. For now.
“So fucking perfect.”
I lift her leg, drop her ankle on my shoulder and kiss the lower inside of her calf. Drag my fingers up the length of her leg as I lick a trail up the inside of her knee, her thigh. Mid-thigh, I suck the skin there. One hand at her hip. The other trails up her belly to her breast and pinches the nipple.
Peyton claws at my shirt. Tears at the buttons. Rips the fabric apart and sends buttons skittering across the room.
“I want your skin on mine.”
Hooking her leg on my hip, I wrench the shirt off and toss it behind me. Drop my weight over her, crush my lips to hers, smash her breasts with my chest, and grind the bulge in my pants against her apex.
My hand snakes around her backside, my fingers trailing up her spine. Peyton lined up with my body… damn, this woman was built with me in mind. The lines of her neck and swell of her breasts. The planes of her abdomen and angles of her hip bones. How her lips move in synergy with mine. Her tongue dances the same familiar tune with mine.
Peyton and me, we are perfection.
I clutch the back of her neck, break the kiss, and make the trek back down her body. Taste the saltiness of her skin as I trail down her breastbone, her abdomen. Inhale her coconut mint scent with each new area of skin my lips touch. Trace the soft flesh along the outside of her thigh with my fingers as I drop low, low, lower.
Peppering kisses on her lower abdomen, I peer up at her and lick along the low hemline of her panties. She fists my hair and shoves me lower.
“Something you want?” I mumble over the thin strip of fabric separating her skin from my lips.
“Teasing time is over.”
I blow gently over the apex of her thighs and she trembles. “Is it, though?”
She props herself up on an elbow, clutches my chin and tips my eyes to hers. Her violet irises glow with hunger and I swallow. For a beat, her eyes drop to my lips as she licks hers.
“Taste me,” she moans out before dropping her hand and shoving my face between her legs.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Until both of us are bone tired, I do exactly that. Taste her. Give her one orgasm after another. Torture her in the best possible ways. And when she offers to return the favor, I decline. At least for tonight.
Peyton needs to know I want more than one thing from her. That I want more than casual sex with her. That I want the whole package. Her smart mouth and brilliant mind. Her shapely body and sutured heart. All of it. The only way I know to show her this is to deprive myself of the one thing I am synonymous with—sex.
It may not be the perfect answer to show her I care. But it is the only way I know. For now.
And she doesn’t seem to mind. Not one bit.
