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If this is the only weapon at my disposal, I’ll use it without hesitation. Cupping her face, I deepen the kiss. She mumbles a protest but at the same time wraps her arms around my neck and flattens her breasts against my chest. The flames we’re igniting are as hot as I knew they’d be. I kiss her harder still, cutting her lip with my teeth, but she’s kissing me right back.
Moaning, she threads her fingers through my hair and pulls hard. Fuck. I nearly combust. Without breaking the kiss, I unbutton my shirt and peel out of it. She drags her nails over my chest, inviting goosebumps. My skin contracts from the sting as she closes her fingers in my chest hair. She traces the grooves of my pecs, her soft touch not preparing me for the sharp twist as she pinches my nipples.
She’s fire reincarnated.
She’ll be the death of me.
She’s not the only one exploring. My hands are roaming too. Slowing the kiss to a more sensual caress, I taste the depth of her mouth while fulfilling a fantasy by testing the weight of her breast. She’s soft and firm in my hand, just like I imagined. She moans, leaning into my palm when I gently rub a thumb over the hardened tip. I put all my skill into the kiss, my aim to seduce as I slide a hand up her thigh and pull her leg around my ass. The position opens her to me, allowing me better access to the heat between her thighs. The roll of my hips mimics the act we’d be performing if we were naked. Her resistance has melted. All that burning anger has transformed into arousal, into something I can finally use. The only thing standing between me fucking her are two layers of clothes.
She pulls away, the color of her eyes a shade darker as she looks at me. She’s panting, her chest heaving. I let her leg down and reach for the button of her jeans. She doesn’t stop me when I pop the button through the hole. She doesn’t look away when I pull down the zipper and slip a hand inside her underwear to cup her sex. She’s warm and slick. I like that she waxes. I like to feel her like this, with nothing between my fingers and her silken skin. Coating a finger in her arousal, I trace the line of her slit. She inhales sharply, grabbing my shoulders for support as I tease her clit with the pad of my thumb.
I watch her face as I gently part her before slipping my finger inside. Her lashes lower and dip. She throws back her head and bites her lip. I stroke deeper, curling my finger to find her sensitive spot. She makes a sexy little sound, letting me know I found it.
“Look at me,” I say.
She lifts her head and focuses on my face.
“You want this, Violet.”
She whimpers.
“Say it,” I insist.
“I want this,” she whispers, cupping her hand over mine between her legs and arching her hips to force my finger deeper.
Fuck, that’s hot. But that’s not how I want to make her come, not by humping my hand.
I pull my hand from her underwear and command in a rough voice, “Take off your pants.”
We’re both high on lust, high enough for her to put aside whatever objections she has about us and kick off her sneakers. Biting her lip, she pushes the jeans over her hips and down her legs. She removes her socks before straightening, standing in front of me in a triangle of pink lace.
“T-shirt too,” I say.
She raises her arms and pulls off the T-shirt, letting it drop to the floor. Her bra matches her panties. Her nipples are visible from under the lace. Does she have any idea how hot she is? She’s so perfect, a sudden rush of impatience to claim her and stamp my possession on her rushes through me. It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to grab her. This isn’t something I want to rush. I want to take my sweet time with her in bed.
When I reach for my buckle, she says, “No. The pants stay on.”
I’m so consumed with need I don’t care that I won’t get to go all the way. All I care about is luring her closer and making her come. I’ve only had the pleasure once, and getting her off is already my addiction.
“Fine,” I say, dropping my hands. “My pants will stay on.” Moving to the bed, I sit down and spread my legs a little. “Come here.”
She hesitates only for a second before walking over and stopping in front of me.
“You’re stunning, Violet. Fucking beautiful.” I consider how to take the game forward without shattering her fragile insecurities. “Come lie on my lap.” It’s something we’ve done, something familiar that shouldn’t feel threatening.
